"You see, Druce, it's like this," the General was saying, "the women have their world, and we have ours. They are, in a measure——"
"Are they going to call?" asked Druce curtly.
"Just let me finish what I was about to say. Women have their rules of conduct, and we have——"
"Are they going to call?" repeated Druce, in the same hard tone of voice.
The General removed his hat and drew his handkerchief across his brow and over the bald spot on his head. He wished himself in any place but where he was, inwardly cursing woman-kind and all their silly doings. Bracing up after removing the moisture from his forehead, he took on an expostulatory tone.
"See here, Druce, hang it all, don't shove a man into a corner. Suppose I asked you to go to Mrs. Ed. and tell her not to fret about trifles, do you suppose she wouldn't, just because you wanted her not to? Come now!"
Druce's silence encouraged the General to take it for assent.
"Very well, then. You're a bigger man than I am, and if you could do nothing with one young woman anxious to please you, what do you expect me to do with two old maids as set in their ways as the Palisades. It's all dumb nonsense, anyhow."
Druce remained silent. After an irksome pause the hapless General floundered on—
"As I said at first, women have their world, and we have ours. Now, Druce, you're a man of solid common sense. What would you think if Mrs. Ed. were to come here and insist on your buying Wabash stock when you wanted to load up with Lake Shore? Look how absurd that would be. Very well, then; we have no more right to interfere with the women than they have to interfere with us."