"Something about politics, isn't it?"

"'Something about politics!'" he echoed. "I should say it is! Wait till
it's done, and this evening I'll tell you--if you can keep a secret."

Minnie set her work-basket on the steps. "Oh, I guess I can keep a
secret," she said. "But it won't make any difference."

"You mean you've said it, and you'll stick to it that it's gratitude till
their wedding day."

"She knows he gave her father something to do, and helped him in other
ways, when no one else did."

"I know all about that. She reproaches herself for having neglected Fisbee
while a stranger took care of him, and saved him from starving--and worse.
She's unreasonable about it; she didn't know he was in want till long
after. That's just like Fisbee, to tell her, afterwards. He didn't tell
her how low he got; but he hinted at it to her, and I guess she
understood; I gathered that much from him. Of course she's grateful, but
gratefulness don't account for everything."

"Yes it does."

"Well, I never expected to have the last word with a woman."

"Well, you needn't," said Minnie.

"I don't. I never do," he retorted. She did not answer, but hummed a
little tune and looked up at the tree-tops.