“I haven't lost any friends. Far from it.”
“Nobody's dead, then?”
“No. Though I could find some who are half dead without trying very hard.”
More perfectly good sarcasm wasted. Lute inquired eagerly if I meant old Mrs. Lobelia Glover. “I heard yesterday she was pretty feeble,” he added. “'Tain't to be expected she'll last a long spell, at her age. Doctor Quimby says she had a spine in her back for twenty years.”
I made no comment upon poor Mrs. Glover's surprising affliction. I merely grunted and went into the house. Dorinda looked at me curiously.
“What's the trouble?” she asked.
“Trouble! There isn't any trouble. You and Lute seem to be looking for trouble.”
“Don't have to look far to find it, in this world. Anything wrong at the bank?”
“No.”
“Um-hm. Settin' so long on the fence make you uneasy? I told you the pickets would wear through if you roosted on 'em too long.”