"Exactly," I replied; "it would mean a fight."
We listened intently. It was a problem—simple to the speakers—of gussets, and pleats, and back widths, and yet not one connected sentence could we hear.
"I tell you what, Mr. Carton," said Andy, in his hoarse whisper, "I've been married forty-two years, and I ain't found anything yet as entertainin' as the ways of a woman."
"Well," I suggested, "what about the ways of two women?"
Andy doubled himself over in silent glee; as for me, I felt that I had said something rather neat, and tried not to smile myself. Just then the voices in the next room suddenly ceased.
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Mrs. Taylor. "It's after eleven. I wonder what them men is talkin' about so quiet in the kitchen. If your husband lets him, Andy'll jest talk him blind, once he gets started."
Marion laughed merrily. "Why, Mrs. Taylor," she said, "how absurd! You don't know Henry, or you wouldn't say that."
"Talk about women gossipin', as men do, Mrs. Carton, I believe there's more gossip goes on among the men down at the post-office every day than all the women round here do in a week. Now Andy"——
At that moment Andy softly shut the door, shuffled a chair across the floor ostentatiously and announced in a loud tone that it was time to get to bed.