Mrs. Jim Jones could not bring herself to speak of anything without a show of temper, whether she really felt it or not.  She fairly lashed out at Sylvia when the latter inquired if it was true that Albion Bennet had left her house and returned to the hotel.

“Yes, it is true, and thank the Lord for His unspeakable mercy to the children of men.  I couldn’t have stood that man much longer, and that’s the gospel truth.  He ate like a pig, so there wasn’t a mite of profit in it.  And he was as fussy as any old maid I ever saw.  If I have to choose between an old maid and an old batch for a boarder, give me the old maid every time.  She don’t begin to eat so much, and she takes care of her room.  Albion Bennet about ruined my spare chamber.  He et peanuts every Sunday, and they’re all ground into the carpet.  Yes, I’m mighty glad to get rid of him.  Let alone everything else, the way he pestered my Susy was enough to make me sick of my bargain.  There that poor child got so she tagged me all over the house for fear Albion Bennet would make love to her.  I guess Susy ain’t going to take up with a man like Albion Bennet.  He’s too old for her anyhow, and I don’t believe he makes much out of his drug store.  I rather guess Susy looks higher than that.  Yes, he’s gone, and it’s ‘good riddance, bad rubbish.’”

“If you feel so about it I’m glad he’s gone back to Lucinda,” said Sylvia.  “She didn’t have many steady boarders, and it did sort of look against her, poor thing, with all the mean talk there’s been.”

“I guess there wasn’t quite so much smoke without a little fire,” said Mrs. Jim Jones, and her small face looked fairly evil.

Then Sylvia was aroused.  “Now, Mrs. Jones, you know better,” said she.  “You know as well as you want to that Lucinda Hart was no more guilty than you and I were.  We both went to school with her.”

Mrs. Jim Jones backed down a little.  There was something about Sylvia Whitman when she was aroused that a woman of Mrs. Jones’s type could not face with impunity.  “Well, I don’t pretend to know,” said she, with angry sullenness.

“You pretended to know just now.  If folks don’t know, it seems to me the best thing they can do is to hold their tongues, anyhow.”

“I am holding my tongue, ain’t I?  What has got into you, Sylvia Whitman?”

“No, you didn’t hold your tongue when you said that about there not being so much smoke without some fire.”

“Well, there always is fire when there’s smoke, ain’t there?”

“No, there ain’t always, not on the earth.  Sometimes there’s smoke that folks’ wicked imaginations bring up out of the other place.  I do believe that.”

“Why, Sylvia Whitman, how you do talk!  You’re almost swearing.”

“Have it swearing if you want to,” said Sylvia.  “I know I’m glad that Albion Bennet has gone back to Lucinda’s.  Everybody knows how mortal scared he is of his own shadow, and if he’s got grit enough to go back there it’s enough to about satisfy folks that there wasn’t anything in the story.”