Part 36 (2/2)
”If you were half as truthful you'd do,” vociferated the engineer, standing over her. ”You, you deceitful woman.”
Mrs. Gannett fumbled in her pocket again, and producing a small handkerchief applied it deliberately to her eyes.
”I--I got rid of it for your sake,” she stammered. ”It used to tell such lies about you. I couldn't bear to listen to it.”
”About _me!_” said Mr. Gannett, sinking into his seat and staring at his wife with very natural amazement. ”Tell lies about _me_! Nonsense! How could it?”
”I suppose it could tell me about you as easily as it could tell you about me?” said Mrs. Gannett. ”There was more magic in that bird than you thought, Jem. It used to say shocking things about you. I couldn't bear it.”
”Do you think you're talking to a child or a fool?” demanded the engineer.
Mrs. Gannett shook her head feebly. She still kept the handkerchief to her eyes, but allowed a portion to drop over her mouth.
”I should like to hear one of the stories it told about me, if you can remember them,” said the engineer with bitter sarcasm.
”The first lie,” said Mrs. Gannett in a feeble but ready voice, ”was about the time you were at Genoa. The parrot said you were at some concert gardens at the upper end of the town.”
One moist eye coming mildly from behind the handkerchief saw the engineer stiffen suddenly in his chair.
”I don't suppose there even is such a place,” she continued.
”I--b'leve--there--is,” said her husband jerkily. ”I've heard--our chaps--talk of it.”
”But you haven't been there?” said his wife anxiously.
”Never!” said the engineer with extraordinary vehemence.
”That wicked bird said that you got intoxicated there,” said Mrs.
Gannett in solemn accents, ”that you smashed a little marble-topped table and knocked down two waiters, and that if it hadn't been for the captain of the _Pursuit_, who was in there and who got you away, you'd have been locked up. Wasn't it a wicked bird?”
”Horrible!” said the engineer huskily.
”I don't suppose there ever was a s.h.i.+p called the _Pursuit_,” continued Mrs. Gannett.
”Doesn't sound like a s.h.i.+p's name,” murmured Mr. Gannett.
”Well, then, a few days later it said the _Curlew_ was at Naples.”
”I never went ash.o.r.e all the time we were at Naples,” remarked the engineer casually.
”The parrot said you did,” said Mrs. Gannett.
”I suppose you'll believe your own lawful hus-band before that d.a.m.ned bird?” shouted Gannett, starting up.
”Of course I didn't believe it, Jem,” said his wife. ”I'm trying to prove to you that the bird was not truthful, but you're so hard to persuade.”
Mr. Gannett took a pipe from his pocket, and with a small knife dug with much severity and determination a hardened plug from the bowl, and blew noisily through the stem.
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