"He did not say, but he said for you to call him as soon as you came home. I forgot to tell you." Mrs. Porter paused and fingered her paper with embarrassment. "Tom," she began again, "if it is another of those men parties he has been having since his wife has been away, I wish you wouldn't go."
"Why not, dear?"
"I don't think they are very nice. Don't they drink a good deal?"
"Some men will drink a good deal any way—any time, but those that don't want to do not."
"Tom, do they"—Mrs. Porter's eyes were on the paper in her lap—"do they play—play poker?"
"Why what made you ask me that question?" Tom answered with some embarrassment.
"Mrs. Bob Miller said her husband told her they did."
"Nobody but Mrs. Miller would believe all that Bob says."
"But you know it is wicked to gamble?"
"Of course it is, to gamble for any amount, but just a little game for amusement, that's not bad."