"
"Then I'm very sorry. I'm real sorry."
The words fell gently, and one might have thought that Mrs. Clover
was softening the rejection of a tender proposal made to herself.
"You mean it's no good?" said the man.
"Not the least, not a bit. And never could be."
Mr. Gammon nodded several times, as if calculating the force of the
blow, and nerving himself to bear it.
"Well, if you say it," he replied at length, "I suppose it's a
fact--but I call it hard lines. Ever since I was old enough to think
of marrying I've been looking out for the right girl--always looking
out, and now I thought I'd found her. Hanged if it isn't hard lines!
I could have married scores--scores; but do you suppose I'd have a
girl that showed she was only waiting for me to say the word? Not
me! That's what took me in Minnie. She's the first of that kind I
ever knew--the only one. But, I say, do you mean you won't let me
try? You surely don't mean that, Mrs. Clover?"
"Yes, I do. I mean just that, Mr. Gammon."
"Why? Because I haven't got a permanency?"
"Oh, no.
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