"Another time," said the widow ambiguously as she let the door close softly behind her.
IX
Her Way.
"THERE," said the bachelor, as he nodded amiably at the big, jolly-looking man beside the little, weazened woman, "is the best husband the Lord ever made!"
"The Lord!" said the widow scornfully. "It isn't the Lord who makes husbands. It's the wife!"
"And I always thought God made Adam," sighed the bachelor, humbly.
"Adam," said the widow promptly, as she dropped another lump of sugar into her tea, "wasn't a husband. He was only a man. And a man is only—raw material. He is like a ready-made frock or a ready-made coat; he has got to be cut down and built up and ironed out and taken in and to have all the raw edges trimmed off before he is properly——"