"And what's that?"
"Why—sit opposite each other at breakfast, go around together, and own things together, and have the same pew at church. You at one end and me at the other, with our children between us."
Cyrus frowned. "Our children?"
Ruth nodded.
"But I never heard of a boy eight years old having real children."
Ruth closed her eyes in solemn meditation. Cyrus, after waiting in vain for an answer said, with a laugh: "Think of me with real children, p'r'aps biggern I am! They could lick me in a fight." And he laughed. "That is funny, isn't it?" And he gave her arm a shake, as if to wake her up.
At the sound of laughter Zac, sitting on the step below, cocked his ears, wagged his tail and sidled up closer to Cyrus, who reached forward, gathered up the loose skin at the back of Zac's neck and gave him a friendly shake.
"Anyway," said Ruth, "everybody ought to get married. Your father and mother and my father and mother were all married."
"Yes, I s'pose they were."