“Has he said anything funny?”
“Hush. No, not yet; don’t be silly.”
Five minutes later: “Was that funny?”
“No, of course not.”
“Why not?”
“Because—can’t you hear? We are talking about Old Age Pensions.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s—oh, never mind now. It isn’t a subject on which one can be funny.”
“Then what’s he want to talk about it for?”
She waited for another quarter of an hour. Then, evidently bored, and much to my relief, suggested herself that she might as well go to bed. She ran to me the next morning in the garden with an air of triumph.