I'm tired out and sick of the whole
thing myself."
"Then why don't you chuck it," she retorted, scornfully, "and go to work
makin' an honest living?"
"Oh, this is honest enough," he said, mildly.
"I don't believe it. All them secret confabs an' trickery to win votes
can't be on the square. Don't talk to me! Politics is another name for
rascality!"
"Perhaps you're right, ma'am; perhaps you're right," he said, with a
sigh.
She looked at him sharply.
"You don't belong in Elmwood."
"No, ma'am; I'm from beyond Fairview. I've come to see your husband on
business."
She sniffed, at that, but picked up her darning and relapsed into
silence. The little man was patient. He sat quietly in his chair and
watched her work.
His mildness disarmed Mary Hopkins. She was not especially averse to
having him sit there. It relieved the loneliness of her occupation. On
occasions she loved to talk, as Erastus had long ago discovered; and
this visitor would not try to shut her up the way Erastus did.
"You don't often get out, ma'am; into society, and such like," ventured
the caller, presently.
"What makes you think that?" she demanded.
"A woman can't keep a house neat and trim like this, and be a social
gadder," he observed.
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