JOE.  Nobody knows it, Jim, but you an’ me.

JIM.  Man to man?

JOE.  Man to man.

JIM. [Slightly relieved.] Well, I done it fur her—­an’ whenever I hear her purty voice—­soft an’ low like verses out of a book—­whenever I look at her face—­purtier than them pictures they put in the cigar-boxes—­and her hands soft and baby-like—­I feel ’way down here that I helped do some of that.  An’ do you think, Joe Vernon, that I’d sell out?  No, sir, not by a damned sight!

JOE.  But look here, Jim, think of me.  We’re going in that convention together—­agin each other—­for the same office, and if you was to tell—­

JIM. [Sharp turn.] Tell! Don’t move—­but jus’ draw breath enough to take that back.

JOE. [Putting out his hand.] Jim!

JIM. [Pause.] Why, if anybody’d said you could a thought them things!

JOE. [Pleadingly.] Jim!

JIM. [Long pause.] Well, there—­[Takes JOE’S hand.

Enter MRS. VERNON.

MRS. VERNON. [Nervously.] Joe, I’ve a notion to holler to Kate to run home.  I don’t like her walkin’ with that man.

JOE.  What man?

MRS. VERNON.  Why, Travers.  I don’t know what Kate sees in him. [Returns to door.

JIM. [Comfortingly.] Well, he’s a city chap, and Kate’s so smart about them things.  Joe, how old is Kate?

JOE.  Twenty, ain’t she, ma?

MRS. VERNON. [In street door.] Lor, no—­we ain’t been married but nineteen.

JOE.  Seems longer’n that to me.

JIM looks at him, crossing to melodeon, shaking head.

JIM.  How old is she, Mrs. Vernon?

MRS. VERNON.  They’s fourteen months difference ‘tween her an’ Lizbeth.

JIM looks at JOE again.

JIM.  Well, I’ve knowed her so long, she always seems jes’ a little child to me—­but Kate’s old enough to be thinkin’ o’ gettin’ married, ain’t she?

MRS. VERNON.  I was mother of two young uns when I was as old as Kate.

JIM looks at JOE again. JOE is a mixture of pride and apology.

JIM. [Leans over back of chair.] You know, if I had my way, I’d like Kate to see everything.  Go to St. Louis, and Europe, an’ travel.  I’ve often thought I’d like to be well enough off to take Kate an’ jes’ do nothin’ but travel for a whole summer.

MRS. VERNON.  Oh, folks’d talk about it, Jim.

JIM.  Why, I mean married—­if Kate’d have me.

MRS. VERNON.  Oh!

JOE. [Explainingly.] Of course—­’fore they started.

JIM looks at JOE in amused disgust.

JIM.  An’ you know, Mrs. Vernon, I’ve had it on the tip of my tongue a dozen times to ask her.

MRS. VERNON. [Reflectively.] Well,—­it might be the best thing that could happen to her. [Pause.] Kate’s been awful restless lately.