"McCarthy?"
"Yes. I think the man's a preacher. A Rev. N.J. McCarthy, if I remember correctly." She looked up at him. Her face took on an expression of defined contempt as she grunted a reply.
"Humph!"
"Well...."
"Who doesn't know that old rascal!"
"Indeed!" he echoed, in affected surprise; but in the same instant he had a feeling that he was to hear just this. Still, he maintained his expression of surprise.
"The worst old rascal in the state of Illinois," she pursued with equal contempt.
"Oh, really!"
"Really—yes, positively!"
"I cannot understand?"