“Oh! row—don’t ask me,” returned his companion. “These women drive me distracted at times. That fool can’t keep her tongue from wagging, and I feel like a man who is walking with a lighted pipe over a powder magazine. Sit down.”
Rawton sat down, but did not make any further remarks for the present. He was at no loss to see that his friend was in one of his tantrums, and that he had “let her ladyship have it.”
“I tell you, those two women are the torment of my life,” cried Peace, still irate.
“Two—eh?”
“Well, yes, two, worse luck. It’s bad enough to be troubled with one, but two is more than mortal man can bear.”
“It’s no business of mine,” said Bill, “but I should have thought—”
“Well, what should you have thought?”
“One jibber would have been enough for you to do with at a time.”
“You are right—they are both jibbers; but then it’s no use talking about the matter—every man has his troubles in this world.”
“And yours appear to be women—eh, old man?” cried the gipsy, with a laugh, for he was well acquainted with his friend’s predilection for the fair sex.