"Go ahead."
"How old is she?"
"Twenty-seven or eight."
"Married?"
"No."
"Ever been married?"
"Certainly not."
"How do you know?"
Harlson looked surprised, and then he became indignant again.
"Alf," said he, "you have good traits, but you have paralysis of a certain section of your brain. You don't remember things. Don't you think I could tell whether or not a woman were married?"