“Ah! that is a true word.”
“Besides,” I continued, “suppose you marry a woman with whom you think you are in love and then find out, after you have been married to her for three months, that you do not like her. This would be a very painful situation.”
“Ah, yes, indeed! that is a true word.”
“And if you had children who were good and dutiful, it would be delightful; but suppose they turned out disobedient and ungrateful—and I have known many such cases—could anything be more distressing to a parent in his declining years?”
“Ah! that is a true word that you have spoken.”
“We have a great Imaum,” I continued, “in England; he is called the Archbishop of Canterbury and gives answers to people who are in any kind of doubt or difficulty. I knew one gentleman who asked his advice upon the very question that you have done me the honour of propounding to myself.”
“Ah! and what was his answer?”
“He told him,” said I, “that it was cheaper to buy the milk than to keep a cow.”
“Ah! ah! that is a most true word.”
Here I closed the conversation, and we began packing up to make a start. When we were about to mount, I said to him, hat in hand: