"Why? I don't see how they should spoil it."
"O, they do not care for the things I care for; the sea is nothing to them, and the rocks less than nothing; and instead of being quiet, they talk nonsense, or what seems nonsense to me; and I'd as lieve be at home."
"What do they go for then?"
"I don't know. I think they do not know what to do with themselves."
"What do they stay here for, then, for pity's sake? If they are tired, why don't they go away?"
"I can't tell. That is what I have asked myself a great many times.
They are all as well as fishes, every one of them."
Mrs. Marx held her peace and let things go their train for a few days more. Mrs. Wishart still gave her and Lois a good deal to do, though her ailments aroused no anxiety. After those few days, Mrs. Marx spoke again.
"What keeps you so mum?" she said to Lois. "Why don't you talk, as other folks do?"
"I hardly see them, you know, except at meals."
"Why don't you talk at meal times? that's what I am askin' about. You can talk as well as anybody; and you sit as mum as a stick."