"I don't see how she can know." And Mr. Ducklow paced the room in deep trouble. "I've been careful not to give a hint on 't to anybody, for I knew jest what folks would say: 'If Ducklow has got so much money to dispose of, he'd better give Reuben a lift.' I know how folks talk."
"Coming here to browbeat us!" exclaimed Mrs. Ducklow. "I wonder ye didn't be a little more plain with her, father! I wouldn't have sot and been dictated to as tamely as you did!"
"You wouldn't? Then why did ye? She dictated to you as much as she did to me; and you scurce opened your head; you didn't dars' to say yer soul was your own!"
"Yes, I did, I"——.
"You ventur'd to speak once, and she shet ye up quicker 'n lightnin'! Now tell about you wouldn't have sot and been dictated to like a tame noodle, as I did!"
"I didn't say a tame noodle."
"Yes, ye did. I might have answered back sharp enough, but I was expectin' you to speak. Men don't like to dispute with women."
"That's your git-off," said Mrs. Ducklow, trembling with vexation. "You was jest as much afraid of her as I was. I never see ye so cowed in all my life."
"Cowed! I wasn't cowed, neither. How unreasonable, now, for you to cast all the blame on to me!"
And Mr. Ducklow, his features contracted into a black scowl, took his boots from the corner.