"Tooth--when did you cut it?"
"I have no idea. Surely, Hennessey--"
"Answered, dearest grannie!" cried the Prophet, with gathering
agitation. "Did you ever wear a short coat?"
"I--I'm not a man!"
"You didn't! Always a skirt?"
"Of course! Why--"
"And you're sixty-eight on the twentieth. So for sixty-eight years
you've always worn a skirt. That's four."
"Four what? Are you--?"
"When did you put your hair up, grannie, darling?"
"My hair--never. You know I've always had a maid to do these things for
me. Fancy--"
"Of course. You've never put your hair up. I might have known. You were
married very young, weren't you?"
"Ah, yes. On my seventeenth birthday, and was left a widow in exactly
two years' time. Your poor dear granf--"
"Thank you, grannie, thank you! Seven!"
"Seven what, Hennessey? One would th--"
"And now, dear grannie, tell me one thing, only one little thing more.
About--that is, talking of rashes--"
"Rashers!"
"No, grannie, rashes--illnesses, you know, that take an epidemic form."
"Well, what about them? Surely there isn't an epidemic in the square?"
"How many have you had, grannie?"
"Where? Had what?"
"Here, anywhere in the square, grannie.
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