"She went through the marriage service. That fixes it, don't it?" Twombley puffed loudly. "I suppose it does, but I kind of recall that there was a quarrel between them." "Ain't that a proof that they was married?" Twombley's eyes twinkled through the slits of lids--he always squinted his eyes close when he wanted to go slow. Larry laughed. "Didn't Peneluna Sniff, or whatever her name is, live in a house by herself?" he asked. He was puzzled. "She sure did. Your old man was a powerful understander of human nater. A few feet 'twixt married folks, he uster say, often saves the day." "Well, who's got her house?" "She's got it." "Empty?" "I guess the same truck's in it that always was. I ain't seen any moving out." "Is Mrs. Sniff at home?" "How do you suppose I know, young man? These ain't calling hours on the Point." "Well, they're business hours, all right, Twombley. See here, my friend, I'm going to hire that house of Mrs. Sniff if I can." Twombley's slits came close together. "Yes?" was all he vouchsafed. "Yes. And I wish you'd pass the word along, my friend." "I don't pass nothing!" Twombley interrupted. "I take all I kin git. I make use of what I can. The rest, I chuck." "Well, have it your own way, but I'm your friend, Twombley, and the friend of your neighbours. I cannot say more now--but you'll all believe it some day." "Maclin standing back of yer, young feller?" "Yes. And that's where you've made another bad guess, Twombley. Maclin's your friend, only he isn't free to speak out just now." "Gosh! we ain't eager for him to speak. The stiller he is the better we like it." "He knows that. He's given up--he is going to see what I can make you feel--I'm one of you, you know that, Twombley." "Never would have guessed it, son!" Twombley leered. "Well, my wife's always been your friend--what's the difference? I've been on my job; she's been on hers--it's all the same, only now I'm going to prove it!" "Gosh! you'll be a shock to Maclin all right." "No, I won't, Twombley. You're wrong about him. He's meant right, but not being one of us he's bungled, he knows it now. He's listened to me at last." Larry could be a most important-appearing person when there was no one to prick his little bubble. Twombley eyed his visitor calmly. "Funny thing, life is," he ruminated, seeming to forget Larry's presence. "Yer get to thinking you're running down hill on a greased plank, and sudden--a nail catches yer breeches and yer stop in time to see where yer was going!" "What then, Twombley?" "Oh! nothing. Only as long as yer breeches hold and the nail don't come out, yer keep on looking!" Again Twombley spat. Then, seeing his guest rising, he asked with great dignity: "Going, young sir?" "Yes, over to Mrs. Sniff's. And if we are neighbours, Twombley, let us be friends. My father had a liking for you, I remember." "I'm not forgetting that, young sir."