"What do you mean by that?"
"That she--ahem! That she couldn't actually THROW it."
"I'm not so literal as you, Uncle George."
"Then why use the word THROW?"
"Of course, Uncle George, I don't mean to say she'd have it reduced
to gold coin and stand off and take shots at us. You understand
that, don't you?"
"Leslie," put in his father, "you have a most distressing way
of--er--putting it. Your Uncle George is not so dense as all that."
"I didn't use the word 'throw' in the first place," said Leslie,
with a shrug. "I said 'chuck.'"
"I distinctly heard you use the word 'throw,'" said Uncle George,
very red in the face.
"It was on the second occasion, George," said Mrs. Wrandall, loyal
to Leslie.
"In either case," said her son, "we'd be made ridiculous. That's
the long and short of it. Even if she HANDED it to us on a silver
plate,--figuratively speaking, Uncle George,--we'd be made to look
like thirty cents."
"Well, I'm damn--" began Uncle George, almost forgetting where he
was, but remembering in time. He was afraid to utter a word for
the next ten minutes, and Leslie was spared the interruptions.
It was decided that the will should stand. Later on, the alarming
prospect of Sara's perfect right to marry again came up to mar the
peace of mind of all the Wrandalls, and it grew to be horribly real
without a single move on her part to warrant the fears they were
encouraging.
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