"Yes," he said, absently, "I should think it might.

That is, I mean--I--I beg your pardon." He paused and wiped his forehead with the towel.

The young lady burst into a peal of laughter, in which the stout woman joined.

The laugh was so infectious that even Brown was obliged to smile.
"I apologize," he stammered.

"I didn't mean that exactly as it sounded.
I'm not responsible mentally--yet--I guess." "I don't wonder." It was the stout woman who answered.