Less loneliness for me, Henry, and, in fact, a--person--a--a female--you understand." Mr.Dale looked at him.
"In fact, as I might say, a wife, Henry." Mr.Dale was at last aroused; with his pipe between his lips, he clutched the lion's-heads on the arms of his chair, and sat looking at Mr.Denner in such horrified astonishment, that the little gentleman stumbled over any words, simply for the relief of speaking.
"Yes," he said, "just so, Henry, just so.

I have been thinking of it lately, perhaps for the last year; yes--I have been thinking of it." Mr.Dale, still looking at him, made an inarticulate noise in his throat.
Mr.Denner's face began to show a faint dull red to his temples.
"Ah--yes--I--I have thought of it, as it were." "Denner," said Mr.Dale solemnly, "you're a fool." "If you mean my age, Henry," cried the other, his whole face a dusky crimson, that sent the tears stinging into his little brown eyes, "I cannot say I think your--surprise--is--ah--justified.

It is not as though there was anything unsuitable--she--they--are quite my age.

And for Willie's sake, I doubt if it is not a--a duty.

And I am only sixty-one and a half, Henry.