“First,” said Tom, “because you made 'em, and second, because they were stolen.”
Truly, young Tom had a way with women, had he only been aware of it.
“I never took much stock in stolen things,” said Euphrasia.
“It's because you never were tempted with such pie as that,” replied the audacious Mr. Gaylord.
“You're gettin' almighty stout,” said Euphrasia.
As we see her this morning, could she indeed ever have had a love affair?
“I don't have to use my legs as much as I once did,” said Tom. And this remark brought to an end the first phase of this conversation,—brought to an end, apparently, all conversation whatsoever. Tom racked his brain for a new topic, opened his roll-top desk, drummed on it, looked up at the ceiling and whistled softly, and then turned and faced again the imperturbable Euphrasia.
“Euphrasia,” he said, “you're not exactly a politician, I believe.”
“Well,” said Euphrasia, “I've be'n maligned a good many times, but nobody ever went that far.”
Mr. Gaylord shook with laughter.