Christian winced, and then tried to laugh.
"Oh, that's it, is it?" he said, absently.
"But leave the girls alone. They're amazin' like the ghos'es, are the girls; once you start them you never know where they'll stop, and they get into every skeleton closet about the house—but of course, of course, I'm an old bachelor, and as the saying is, I don't know nothin'."
"Ha! ha! ha! of course not," laughed Christian with a tragic effort.
They had stopped outside the ivy cottage of the harbor-master, and that worthy, who was standing there, had overheard the last loud words of Kinvig's conversation.
"What do you say, Tommy-Bill-beg?" asked Kinvig, giving him a prod in the ribs.
"I say that the gels in these days ought to get wedded while they're babbies in arms—"
"That'll do, that'll do," shouted Kinvig with a roar of laughter.
At the same moment one of the factory girls appeared side by side with a stranger.
"Good-by, Mr. Kinvig," said Christian.