"If I was too sharp upon you, Mr. Evans, and I may have been," said Marion,
"I beg your pardon."
"It's granted, grannie."
"I don't mean, you know, that I give in to what you say,—not one bit."
"I didn't expect it of you. I'm a-waitin' here for you to knock me down."
"I don't think a mere victory is worth the breath spent upon it," said Marion. "But we should all be glad to get or give more light upon any subject, if it be by losing ever so many arguments. Allow me just to put a question or two to Mr. Jarvis, because he's a joiner himself—and that's a great comfort to me to-night: What would you say, Mr. Jarvis, of a master who planed the timber he used for scaffolding, and tied the crosspieces with ropes of silk?"
"I should say he was a fool, grannie,—not only for losin' of his money and his labor, but for weakenin' of his scaffoldin',—summat like the old throne-maker i' that chapter, I should say."
"What's the object of a scaffold, Mr. Jarvis?"
"To get at something else by means of,—say build a house."
"Then, so long as the house was going up all right, the probability is there wouldn't be much amiss with the scaffold?"
"Certainly, provided it stood till it was taken down."