"So take a friend's advice, and never go out after sundown, except in company with your wife." There was a change from gravity to mock seriousness in the voice of Ellis as he closed this sentence.

Wilkinson compressed his lips and shook his head.
"Can't always be tied to my wife's apron-string.

Oh, no! haven't come to that." "With such a wife, and your temperament, it is the best place for you," said Ellis, laughing.
"May be it is; but, for all that, I like good company too well to spend all my time with her." "Isn't she good company ?" "Oh, yes; but, then, variety is the very spice of life, you know." "True enough.

Well, we'll not quarrel about the matter.

Come! let's go and take a drink; I'm as dry as a fish." "I don't care if I do," was the instinctive reply of Wilkinson, who took up his hat as he spoke.
The two men left the store, and were, a little while after, taking a lunch at a public house, and chatting over their brandy and water.
At the usual dinner hour, Wilkinson returned home.