“If only that damned pump hadn't jambed,” said my father.
“Do you remember that Mrs. Tharand?” asked my mother.
“Yes, what of her?”
“A worldly woman, I always thought her. She called on me the morning we were leaving; I don't think you saw her. 'I've been through more worries than you would think, to look at me,' she said to me, laughing. I've always remembered her words: 'and of all the troubles that come to us in this world, believe me, Mrs. Kelver, money troubles are the easiest to bear.'”
“I wish I could think so,” said my father.
“She rather irritated me at the time,” continued my mother. “I thought it one of those commonplaces with which we console ourselves for other people's misfortunes. But now I know she spoke the truth.”
There was silence between them for awhile. Then said my father in a cheery tone:
“I've broken with old Hasluck.”
“I thought you would be compelled to sooner or later,” answered my mother.
“Hasluck,” exclaimed my father, with sudden vehemence, “is little better than a thief; I told him so.”