“There’s wives and wives,” said the bridegroom tenderly.
“And mine’s a good one,” said the Third, “registered A1 at Lloyd’s, but she don’t worry about me going away. Your wife’s thirty years younger than you, isn’t she?”
“Twenty-five,” corrected the other shortly. “You see what I’m afraid of is, that she’ll get too much attention.”
“Well, women like that,” remarked the Third.
“But I don’t, damn it,” cried the Chief hotly. “When I think of it I get hot all over. Boiling hot.”
“That won’t last,” said the other reassuringly; “you won’t care twopence this time next year.”
“We’re not all alike,” growled the Chief; “some of us have got finer feelings than others have. I saw the chap next door looking at her as we passed him this morning.”
“Lor’,” said the Third.
“I don’t want any of your damned impudence,” said the Chief sharply. “He put his hat on straighter when he passed us. What do you think of that?”
“Can’t say,” replied the other with commendable gravity; “it might mean anything.”