He fed her a bit of fish and she returned to her lounge, closing her eyes. “She knows suthin’ ’s happened,” said Uncle William, “Her mind’s going round and round.”
Bodet smiled. “She looks placid enough.”
“You can’t tell that way,” said Uncle William. “Women ain’t like men-folks—not just like ’em. They ’ll smile and look polite and fix their faces—and then, all of a sudden, things ’ll happen.”
A little laugh bubbled over from the sink.
Uncle William turned in his chair and looked at her. He adjusted his glasses and looked again. “‘D you say anything, Celia?”
“No, sir—I just thought it was kind of funny about women—”
“So ’tis,” said Uncle William, “It’s funny’s anything I know—the way women be. I take a sight o’ comfort thinkin’ about women and the way they be.”
“Yes, sir—would you like some more tea?”
Uncle William waved it away—“Not another mite. We’ve had a good supper.” He pushed back from the table. “Now, we ’ll help you clear up a little—” He looked about him.
“I don’t want anybody to touch my dishes,” she said promptly.