“They wouldn't even have me go on singing.”
We got to talking of the Captain and his wife. Falkenberg had an ill-forboding all was not as it might be between them.
Gossiping fool! I put in a word:
“You'll excuse me, but you don't know what you are talking about.”
“Ho!” said he angrily. And, growing more and more excited, he went on: “Have you ever seen them, now, hanging about after each other? I've never heard them say so much as a word.”
The fool!—the churl!
“Don't know what is the matter with you to-day the way you're sawing. Look—what do you think of that for a cut?”
“Me? We're two of us in it, anyway, so there.”
“Good! Then we'll say it's the thaw. Let's get back to the ax again.”
We went on working each by himself for a while, angered and out of humour both. What was the lie he had dared to say of them, that they never so much as spoke to each other? But, Heaven, he was right! Falkenberg had a keen scent for such things. He knew something of men and women.