He must think you a sad dog, Joe."
"Ah! Suppose on my death it comes to the knowledge of my wife!"
"She won't be able to make it hotter for you than you'll be already."
Joe Pillin replaced the deed within his coat, emitting a queer thin
noise. He simply could not bear joking on such subjects.
"Well," he said, "you've got your way; you always do. Who is this Mrs.
Larne? You oughtn't to keep me in the dark. It seems my boy met her at
your house. You told me she didn't come there."
Old Heythorp said with relish:
"Her husband was my son by a woman I was fond of before I married; her
children are my grandchildren. You've provided for them. Best thing you
ever did."
"I don't know--I don't know. I'm sorry you told me. It makes it all
the more doubtful. As soon as the transfer's complete, I shall get away
abroad. This cold's killing me. I wish you'd give me your recipe for
keeping warm."
"Get a new inside."
Joe Pillin regarded his old friend with a sort of yearning. "And yet,"
he said, "I suppose, with your full-blooded habit, your life hangs by a
thread, doesn't it?"
"A stout one, my boy"
"Well, good-bye, Sylvanus. You're a Job's comforter; I must be getting
home.
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