"And Joe ain't got nothing to say about it?"
"Not a particle. If he had had, I would not be here now. He would have sacked me on the spot."
"Really and truly, he ain't?" she cried, with fresh anxiety.
"Really and truly," I repeated.
"Oh! goody, goody,—"
Poor little Rita;—all sunshine and shower. She was as merry as a kitten for a time, then she dropped back into her serious mood.
"What!—haven't all your worries gone yet?" I asked.
"Some," she said, "but not them all. Do you know what Joe is, George? He's a bully."
"He is, undoubtedly," I agreed.
"Ya!—he is, all right. Still,—it ain't all his fault either. He's handling rough men, and men that are bullies same as he is. He's got to get the work done and done quick.