He made an oblique start. He did not say to her: "I'll tell you about this. You saw me get ready for Trampas because I have been ready for him any time these five years." He began far off from the point with that rooted caution of his—that caution which is shared by the primal savage and the perfected diplomat.
"There's cert'nly a right smart o' difference between men and women," he observed.
"You're quite sure?" she retorted.
"Ain't it fortunate?—that there's both, I mean."
"I don't know about fortunate. Machinery could probably do all the heavy work for us without your help."
"And who'd invent the machinery?"
She laughed. "We shouldn't need the huge, noisy things you do. Our world would be a gentle one."
"Oh, my gracious!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Oh, my gracious! Get along, Monte! A gentle world all full of ladies!"
"Do you call men gentle?" inquired Molly.
"Now it's a funny thing about that. Have yu' ever noticed a joke about fathers-in-law? There's just as many fathers- as mothers-in-law; but which side are your jokes?"
Molly was not vanquished. "That's because the men write the comic papers," said she.
"Hear that, Monte? The men write 'em. Well, if the ladies wrote a comic paper, I expect that might be gentle."
She gave up this battle in mirth; and he resumed:—
