"Wouldn't tell?"
"No—wouldn't tell—chaffed me—no end, but wouldn't go into particulars."
"But could you find out whether it affected you or not?"
"Oh, of course, I took that for granted. That was the point of the whole joke, you know. Louie's chaff consisted altogether of allusions to some mysterious plan, of the widow's, by which she would have full, ample, perfect, complete, and entire vengeance on me."
"That's bad."
"It is."
"A widow's a dangerous thing."
"Too true, my boy," said Jack, with a sigh; "nobody knows that better than I do."
"I wonder you don't try to disarm her."
"Disarm her?"