"'Jour, madame!" and he whipped off his hat and passed on into the
house.
"That was Madame Tom, I suppose, who was leaning over the gate, as I
came in," he said, as they ate.
"I expect so," said Mrs. Hamon. "She generally seems to have time on her
hands."
"When Tom's not there," snapped Grannie. "Got her hands full enough when
he is."
"I should imagine Tom would not be too easy to get on with at times.
Maybe he'll settle down now he's married."
"Doesn't sound like settling down sometimes," chirped the old lady
again.
"Oh? I'm sorry to hear that. She doesn't look bad-tempered."
"Tom's got more'n enough for the two of them."
"I'm afraid she finds it a change from what she's been accustomed to,"
said Mrs. Hamon quietly. "She came in once or twice, but her talk is of
things that don't interest us, and ours is of things that don't interest
her, so we can't get as friendly as we would like to be."
"And Tom?"
"Tom considers us all robbers, as he always has done. He gives us his
blackest face whenever he sees any of us."
"That's unpleasant, seeing you're such close neighbours.
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