"
"Tchee--tchee--tchee," said the hapless Mr. Boxer, putting his hand over
his mouth and making noble efforts to restrain himself; "tchee--tch
"I s'pose you'd ha' laughed more if I 'ad been bit?" said the glaring
Mrs. Gimpson.
"Well, who did the dog bite after all?" inquired Mr. Boxer, recovering.
"You don't understand," replied Mrs. Gimpson, pityingly; "me being safe
up in bed and the door locked, there was no mad dog. There was no use
for it."
"Well," said Mr. Boxer, "me and Mary's going round to see that old
deceiver after supper, whether you come or not. Mary shall tell 'im I'm
a friend, and ask him to tell her everything about 'er husband. Nobody
knows me here, and Mary and me'll be affectionate like, and give 'im to
understand we want to marry. Then he won't mind making mischief."
"You'd better leave well alone," said Mrs. Gimpson.
Mr. Boxer shook his head. "I was always one for a bit o' fun," he said,
slowly. "I want to see his face when he finds out who I am."
Mrs. Gimpson made no reply; she was looking round for the market-basket,
and having found it she left the reunited couple to keep house while she
went out to obtain a supper which should, in her daughter's eyes, be
worthy of the occasion.
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