“'I did,' says she. 'I went down street myself, on an errand, and, bein' as you weren't here to go with me, Bennie was good enough to go. It ain't pleasant for a woman to go out alone after dark, and—and I have never been used to it,' she says.
“That kind of hurt me and pricked my conscience, as you may say.
“'You know I'd been tickled to death to go with you, Emeline,' I says. 'Any time, you know it. But you never asked me to go with you.'
“'How long has it been since you asked to go with me?' she says.
“'Do you really want me to go anywheres, Emeline?' says I, eager. 'Do you? I s'posed you didn't. If you'd asked—'
“'Why should I always do the askin'? Must a wife always ask her husband? Doesn't the husband ever do anything on his own responsibility? Seth, I married you because I thought you was a strong, self-reliant man, who would advise me and protect me and—'
“That cussed inventor bust into the talk right here. I cal'late he thought twas time.
“'Excuse me, sister,' he says; 'don't humiliate yourself afore him. Remember you and me saw him tonight, saw him with our own eyes, settin' on a dark piazza with another woman. Drinkin' with her and—'
“'Drinkin'!' I yells.
“'Yes, drinkin',' says he, solemn. 'I don't wonder you are ashamed of it.'