Busby looked up and nodded, then went on with his work. This was something out of the ordinary for Busby, who rarely missed an opportunity to gossip. George Early chuckled to himself and began to sharpen a pencil.
"Saw you last night, Mr. Busby," he said presently. "Nice little girl, that sister-in-law of yours. Fine figure she has, too."
Busby rubbed his chin a moment, and became deeply interested in his work.
"She's not my sister-in-law," he said slowly.
"No?" said George, surprised. "Now, look here, you told me that little girl was your wife's sister. You don't mean to say she's—she's no relation?"
Busby made no reply, and George began to chuckle audibly.
"You sly dog!" he laughed. "Well, you are a sly dog! Fancy you trotting out a nice little girl like that! And I'll bet your wife doesn't know it. I'll bet she doesn't—does she?"
Busby frowned and flicked over some papers. "I say, Early, just you clear off; I've got a lot to do this morning," he whispered.
"Oh, get out!" said George. "You know I want to hear all about it. You are a lucky beggar! Did you kiss her? I'll bet you kissed her a few times. So would I. And, fancy, your wife knowing all about it, too!"
"She doesn't!" blurted out Busby, with reckless truthfulness.