Mr. Chalk, feeling that appearances required it, ventured on a mild—a very mild—remonstrance.
"And he," continued Mrs. Chalk, sternly, indicating her husband with a nod, "doesn't go without me—not a single step, not an inch of the way."
Mr. Chalk collapsed and sat staring at her in dismay. Mr. Stobell, placing both hands on the table, pushed his chair back and eyed her disagreeably.
"It seems to me——" he began.
"I know," said Mrs. Chalk, speaking with some rapidity—"I know just how it seems to you. But that's how it is. If you want my husband to go you have got to have me too, and if you have me you have got to have your wife, and if——"
"What, is there any more of you coming?" demanded Mr. Stobell, with great bitterness.
Mrs. Chalk ignored the question. "My husband wouldn't be happy without me," she said, primly. "Would you, Thomas?"
"No," said Mr. Chalk, with a gulp.
"We—we're going a long way," said Mr. Stobell, after a long pause.
"Longer the better," retorted Mrs. Chalk.