"Why, for the matter of that," he said, "the older I grow, the fewer men do I put full trust in. But, Betty, there is something else I have to talk of with thee."
"Ay," said his wife, laying down the purse she was netting, "and what is that?"
"Faith, I scarce like to speak of it lest it vex thee."
"The sooner I hear it, the less 'twill keep me on the rack."
"Why, then, I do suspect that Romney is in love."
"Verily!"
"Ay, verily, verily. At the first I thought 'twas but a boyish softness; but I have watched him close of late, and I fear it is a man's passion."
"Oh, mayhap 'tis thy fancy leads thee on to imagine all this. Romney is tougher than thou mayst credit. He can see a pretty face—ay, even for a year—and not lose his heart."
"But, Betty—"
"Well!"