“Don’t you my-dear me!” she answered. “Look at this place! Nothing tidied up yet and the day half through! Did you put the alligator on to boil?”
“I was just going to say—” began the Cave-man.
“Going to say! Yes, I don’t doubt you were going to say. You’d go on saying all day if I’d let you. What I’m asking you is, is the alligator on to boil for dinner or is it not—My gracious!” She broke off all of a sudden, as she caught sight of me. “Why didn’t you say there was company? Land sakes! And you sit there and never say there was a gentleman here!”
She had hustled across the cave and was busily arranging her hair with a pool of water as a mirror.
“Gracious!” she said, “I’m a perfect fright! You must excuse me,” she added, looking round toward me, “for being in this state. I’d just slipped on this old fur blouse and run around to a neighbour’s and I’d no idea that he was going to bring in company. Just like him! I’m afraid we’ve nothing but a plain alligator stew to offer you, but I’m sure if you’ll stay to dinner—”
She was hustling about already, good primitive housewife that she was, making the stone-plates rattle on the mud table.
“Why, really—” I began. But I was interrupted by a sudden exclamation from both the Cave-man and the Cave-woman together:
“Willie! where’s Willie!”
“Gracious!” cried the woman. “He’s wandered out alone—oh, hurry, look for him! Something might get him! He may have fallen in the water! Oh, hurry!”
They were off in a moment, shouting into the dark passages of the outer cave: “Willie! Willie!” There was agonized anxiety in their voices.