Here the Doctor executed a grimace which might mean a good deal, or nothing at all, and said tersely: "She's a bouncer; don't you know her?"
"No."
"Why, that's Mrs. Winslow, old Lyons' soothing syrup; and old Lyon's one of the children—'teething,'" added the Doctor with a hearty laugh. "But she's a tigress!"
Mr. Bangs leaned out of the window, took a good look at the tigress, and then, as if endeavoring to recollect some former occurrence, said: "I believe I have seen her somewhere before."
"Quite so, quite so; undoubtedly you have."
"And I think in the West, too," replied Mr. Bangs, trying hard to remember, and handing the doctor a fresh cigar.
"Exactly—Chicago, St. Louis, Cincinnati, Louisville—everywhere, in fact. One might call her a social floater, and not be far out of the way either. She used to live at Terre Haute."
"Terre Haute? Why, of course! I knew I had seen her somewhere."
"Yes, she lived a few miles out, up the Wabash river, for years. Her husband's name was Oxford, or Hosford, or something of the kind."