"Do you suppose she's grieving for Spike?"
"Well, he ain't exactly a j'y t' her. There he is going straight to the devil along o' that Bud M'Ginnis!"
"I must go and fetch him as soon as I can get about again."
"If he'll come."
"Oh, he'll come," said Ravenslee grimly. "I've decided to send him to college—"
"If he'll go!"
"Oh, he'll go—there's quite a lot of good in him, Mrs. Trapes."
"Only it's mighty hard to find, Mr. Geoffrey! If that b'y wants t' go t' th' devil, to th' devil he'll go. What you got t' do is t' make her forget him—if you can. Oh, drat him, anyway!" and squaring her elbows, Mrs. Trapes knitted so angrily that her knitting needles clashed like weapons fiercely opposed.
"Yes, but suppose she is grieving for him, Mrs. Trapes?"
"Why then," said Mrs. Trapes, "why then—oh, shucks—I guess I'll go an' see after that beef tea."