“Got any children of your own, ma’am?”
“No.”
“I calculate you’re married?”
“Yes—no,” said Margaret, agitated, for the question opened her wound afresh.
“Queer customer, I calc’late,” thought Mr. Smith. “Don’t seem to know whether she’s married or not. May be she’s been divorced.”
“Excuse me,” said Margaret, feeling it necessary to say something. “I believe I am not strong enough to talk much.”
“Oh well, I’ll do all the talkin’,” said the driver, good-naturedly. “You don’t look very rugged, that’s a fact. Ever tried Dr. Bangs’s Bitters?”
“No.”
“Well, my wife thinks a sight of ‘em; says they go right to the weak spot. Better buy some when you get a good chance.”
So Mr. Smith ran on, satisfied with an occasional response from Margaret, till they reached the paved streets where the noise was too great to admit of being easily heard.