"Oh, I don't say the city's exactly quiet." Rosie picked her words carefully. "All I mean is, you don't notice the noises in the city like you do the noises in the country. The city noises are not such strange noises."
"Oh! That's it, is it? I see!" and George slapped his knee in lusty amusement.
"Jarge," Rosie began slowly, "there's something I want to talk to you about."
"Well, here I am. There'll never be a better time."
"It's about Ellen, Jarge."
George's laugh stopped abruptly.
"I don't like to say anything about her, Jarge, because she's my own sister...." Rosie paused and sighed. "You're in love with her, Jarge, aren't you?"
"Yes, Rosie, I'm afraid I am. And I'm afraid I've got it bad, too."
"Jarge dear, tell me one thing: why are you in love with her?"
George shook his head. "Search me. I don't know."