CARTER [heartily]: Yes, sir! It is, Mr. Gibson! Indeed it is! [Glances with some little pride at his clothes.] I couldn't of expected no finer. Fact is, I never could of asked for anything like this, even if I'd been a praying man.
GIBSON: Well, I'm glad to hear it, Carter!
CARTER: I knowed you would be, Mr. Gibson. It's all just wonderful the way things are working out!
GIBSON: Everything is working out just right, is it?
CARTER: Oh, I don't say everything! They's bound to be some little mites here and there. You know that yourself.
GIBSON [grimly]: Yes, I do! What are your little mites, Carter?
CARTER: Well, what mostly gits my goat is this here Simpson's wife, Mrs.
Simpson.
GIBSON: What bothers you about Simpson's wife?
CARTER: Well, what I says, woman's place is the home, and this here Mrs.
Simpson—I—I never could stand no loud, gabby woman!
GIBSON: You're not neighbours, are you?