“Well, but seven and a half? How do you make out the half? Where does the half come in?”
“There is a child which she had by another husband—not this one but another one—so it is a stepchild, and they do not count in full measure.”
“Another husband? Has she another husband?”
“Yes, four. This one is number four.”
“I don’t believe a word of it. It is impossible, upon its face. Is that boy there her brother?”
“No, that is her son. He is her youngest. He is not as old as he looked; he is only eleven and a half.”
“These things are all manifestly impossible. This is a wretched business. It is a plain case: they simply took your measure, and concluded to fill you up. They seem to have succeeded. I am glad I am not in the mess; they may at least be charitable enough to think there ain’t a pair of us. Are they going to stay here long?”
“No, they leave before noon.”
“There is one man who is deeply grateful for that. How did you find out? You asked, I suppose?”
“No, along at first I inquired into their plans, in a general way, and they said they were going to be here a week, and make trips round about; but toward the end of the interview, when I said you and I would tour around with them with pleasure, and offered to bring you over and introduce you, they hesitated a little, and asked if you were from the same establishment that I was. I said you were, and then they said they had changed their mind and considered it necessary to start at once and visit a sick relative in Siberia.”