"Leastways—" said Mecutchen.
"That is—" said Parthenheimer.
"How was it, anyway?" asked Stethson.
"Thought you saw it," cried the others, turning on him instantly.
"So I did," said Stethson; "but I thought I'd like to hear what you gentlemen's impression was."
"Well," said Mecutchen and Vickers, the tall man, together, tipping back their hats with a simultaneous and precisely similar movement on the part of each,—nothing is more indicative of the careful independence of the average American than the way in which he always keeps his head covered in the presence of his lawyer,—"Well," said Vickers and Mecutchen.
Mr. Mecutchen bowed to Mr. Vickers, and Mr. Vickers bowed to Mr. Mecutchen, with a sort of grotesque self-effacement. Mr. Vickers waved his hand, and Mr. Mecutchen proceeded.
"Why," said he, "the lady stopped the car in the middle of the block,—just like a woman,—got on the platform, car started with a jerk, and she fell off."
Vickers and Parthenheimer nodded assent, but Stethson said that his view of it was that the car started off again while she was trying to get on.
"That makes it stronger," said Mecutchen.