"Thank you," said the captain. He sank into an armchair and looked
curiously about him.
"So you are the late Mr. Warren's brother?" asked the lady, making her
first lead in the game.
"Yes, ma'am. His older brother. 'Bije was ten year younger'n I am,
Mrs.--er--"
"Dunn. I am an old friend of the family."
"That's good. I'm glad to hear they've got friends. When you're in
sickness or trouble or sorrer, friendship counts for consider'ble. How
are the young folks--Caroline and Stephen--pretty smart, hey?"
"SMART? Why, they are intelligent, naturally. I--"
"No, no. I mean are they pretty well?"
"Very well, indeed, considering the shock of their recent bereavement."
"Yes, yes. Of course. And they've moved, too. Movin's an awful job. They
say three movin's are as bad as a fire, but I cal'late I'd rather burn
up a set of carpets than PULL 'em up, 'specially if they was insured.
'Tain't half so much strain on your religion. I remember the last time
we took up our carpets at home, Abbie--she's my second cousin, keepin'
house for me--said if gettin' down on my knees has that effect on me
she'd never ask me to go to prayer-meetin' again. Ho! ho!"
He chuckled. Mrs. Dunn elevated her nose and looked out of the window.
Then she led another small trump.
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