"'So you was at the store the whole evenin'?' she asks.
"'Course I was,' says I. 'Where else would I be?'
"She looked at me hard, and her face sort of set. She didn't answer, but took up the sewin' in her lap and went to work on it. I remember she dropped it once, and Bennie D. jumped to pick it up for her, quick as a wink. I set down in the rockin' chair and took the Gloucester paper. But I didn't really read. The clock ticked and ticked, and 'twas so still you could hear every stroke of the pendulum. Finally, I couldn't stand it no longer.
"'What on earth is the matter?' I sings out. 'What have I done this time? Don't you WANT me to go to the store? Is that it?'
"She put down her sewin'. 'Seth,' says she, quiet but awful cold, 'I want you to go anywheres that you want to go. I never'll stand in your way. But I want you tell the truth about it afterwards.'
"'The truth?' says I. 'Don't I always tell you the truth?'
"'No,' says she. 'You've lied to me tonight. You've been callin' on the Christy woman, and you know it.'
"Well, you could have knocked me down with a baby's rattle. I'd forgot all about that fool Sarah Ann. I cal'late I turned nineteen different shades of red, and for a minute I couldn't think of a word to say. And Bennie D. smiled, wicked as the Old Harry himself.
"'How--how did you--how do you know I see Sarah Ann Christy?' I hollered out, soon's I could get my breath.
"'Because you were seen there,' says she.
"'Who see me?'
"'I did,' says she. 'I went down street myself, on an errand, and, bein' as you weren't here to go with me, Bennie was good enough to go. It ain't pleasant for a woman to go out alone after dark, and-- and I have never been used to it,' she says.
"That kind of hurt me and pricked my conscience, as you may say.
"'You know I'd been tickled to death to go with you, Emeline,' I says. 'Any time, you know it. But you never asked me to go with you.'
"'How long has it been since you asked to go with me?' she says.
"'Do you really want me to go anywheres, Emeline?' says I, eager.
'Do you? I s'posed you didn't. If you'd asked--'
"'Why should I always do the askin'? Must a wife always ask her husband? Doesn't the husband ever do anything on his own responsibility? Seth, I married you because I thought you was a strong, self-reliant man, who would advise me and protect me and--'
"That cussed inventor bust into the talk right here. I cal'late he thought twas time.
"'Excuse me, sister,' he says; 'don't humiliate yourself afore him.
Remember you and me saw him tonight, saw him with our own eyes, settin' on a dark piazza with another woman. Drinkin' with her and--'
"'Drinkin'!' I yells.
"'Yes, drinkin',' says he, solemn. 'I don't wonder you are ashamed of it.'
"'Ashamed! I ain't ashamed.'
"'You hear that, sister? NOW I hope you're convinced.'
"''Twa'n't nothin' but lemonade I was drinkin',' I hollers, pretty nigh crazy. 'She asked me to stop and have a glass 'cause 'twas so hot. And as for callin' on her, I wa'n't. I was just passin' by, and she sings out what a dreadful night 'twas, and I said 'twas, too, and she says won't I have somethin' cold to drink. That's all there was to it.'
"Afore Emeline could answer, Bennie comes back at me again.
"'Perhaps you'll tell us this was the first time you have visited her,' he purrs.
"Well, that was a sockdolager, 'cause twa'n't the first time. I don't know how many times 'twas. I never kept no account of 'em.
Too glad to get away from her everlastin' tongue-clackin'. But when 'twas put right up to me this way, I--I declare I was all fussed up.
I felt sick and I guess I looked so. Emeline was lookin' at me and seemin'ly waitin' for me to say somethin'; yet I couldn't say it.
And Bennie D. laughed, quiet but wicked.
"That laugh fixed me. I swung round and lit into him.
"'You mind your own business,' I roars. 'Ain't you ashamed, makin' trouble with a man's wife in his own house?'
"'I was under the impression the house belonged to my sister-in- law,' he says. And again I was knocked off my pins.
"'You great big loafer!' I yelled at him; 'settin' here doin' nothin' but raisin' the divil generally! I--I--'
"He jumped as if I'd stuck a brad-awl into him. The shocked expression came across his face again, and he runs to Emeline and takes her arm.
"'Sister, sister,' he says, quick, but gentle, 'this is no place for you. Language like that is . . . there! there! don't you think you'd better leave the room?'
"She didn't go. As I remember it now, it keeps comin' back to me that she didn't go. She just stood still and looked at me. And then she says: 'Seth, why did you lie to me?'
'I didn't lie,' I shouts. 'I forgot, I tell you. I never thought that windmill of a Christy woman was enough importance to remember.
I didn't lie to you--I never did. Oh, Emeline, you know I didn't.
What's the matter with you and me, anyway? We used to be all right and now we're all wrong.'
"'One of us is,' says Bennie D. That was the final straw that choked the camel.
"'Yes,' I says to him, 'that's right, one of us is, and I don't know which. But I know this: you and I can't stay together in this house any longer.'
"I can see that room now, as 'twas when I said that. Us three lookin' at each other, and the clock a-tickin', and everything else still as still. I choked, but I kept on.
"'I mean it,' I says. 'Either you clear out of this house or I do.'
"And, while the words was on my lips, again it came to me strong that it wa'n't really my house at all. I turned to my wife.
"'Emeline,' says I, 'it's got to be. You must tell him to go, or else--'
"She'd been lookin' at me again with that kind of queer look in her eyes, almost a hopeful look, seem's if 'twas, and yet it couldn't have been, of course. Now she drawed a long breath.
"'I can't tell him to go, Seth,' says she. 'I promised to give him a home as long as I had one.'
"I set my jaws together. 'All right,' I says; 'then I'M goin'.
Good by.'