"I'd a good mind to tell him so, too.

But I must say, Ellen, I wonder he took you in--he didn't me!" "Well, you had no chance he should--you knew who it was," she said slowly.
And Bunting remained silent, for Ellen was right.

Joe Chandler had already spoken when he, Bunting, came out into the hall, and saw their cleverly disguised visitor.
"Those big black moustaches," he went on complainingly, "and that black wig--why, 'twas too ridic'lous--that's what I call it!" "Not to anyone who didn't know Joe," she said sharply.
"Well, I don't know.

He didn't look like a real man--nohow.

If he's a wise lad, he won't let our Daisy ever see him looking like that!" and Bunting laughed, a comfortable laugh.
He had thought a good deal about Daisy and young Chandler the last two days, and, on the whole, he was well pleased.