"But," persisted Mrs. Little, "you are always suggesting how happy the world would be without us."
Bindle removed his cigar from his mouth and, bending forward towards Mrs. Little, remarked impressively, "You got 'old o' the wrong end o' the stick, mum. I ain't got nothink to say agin women. I likes the ladies."
"But," broke in Little, "didn't you solemnly warn me, Bindle? Now own up."
"That's quite correct," replied Bindle, with undisturbed composure. "I did as I would like a mate to do by me, I jest put up me 'and like an' said, 'Dangerous crossin' 'ere,' same as they do for motors."
"But you say you are not a woman-hater; I don't understand." Mrs. Little screwed up her pretty face in what Little regarded as a most provoking manner.
"Well, mum, you're sort o' mixin' up women an' wives. I ain't got nothink to say against women provided they don't marry yer. When they do they seems to change." Bindle paused, then with unconscious philosophy added, "P'r'aps it's because they find out all about yer."
The silence that ensued was broken by Bindle. "I s'pose," he said thoughtfully, "I'd sort o' miss my little bit of 'eaven if anythink wos to 'appen to 'er. Fancy goin' 'ome an' no one there to say, 'Got a job?'"
There was a note in Bindle's voice which constrained Little and his wife to silence. After a minute's pause he added:
"It can't be all 'oney livin' with an 'eathen such as me."
For fully five minutes no one spoke. It was again Bindle who broke the silence.