Still, he didn't answer none; and she went on:
"I see! It must of been some of them awful Wrights that live acrost there. How dare they break through our fence? I'll have them sued!"
"Oh, no, you won't. It was done from this side—I can tell you that."
I knew his voice. It was him.
"Whoever did it," he went on, "I'm going to close it up. I saw their dog in our yard the other day. Did you see him in here today?"
"No—that same awful little cur?" says she. "They are the worst people, James! I certainly am glad you want nothing to do with them, even their dog. But, of course, you couldn't."
"No; it seemed not," says he.
"What do you mean?" says she, harshlike. "As for that maid of theirs, I was inexpressibly shocked, James, when I found that you so far forgot yourself—"
"I wouldn't say any more," says he.
"I shall say all I like, and you'll please remember who you are! The David Wisners can't afford to have it understood that they associate any way whatsoever with the Wright family. Not even our servants can visit acrost. I've been suspecting for some time."