"Not the half you would give your wife wouldn't," retorted Mrs. Tidger.

The dealer sighed and looked mournfully at Mrs. Pullen. The lady sighed
in return, and finding that her admirer's stock of conversation seemed to
be exhausted, coyly suggested a game of draughts. The dealer assented
with eagerness, and declining the offer of a glass of beer by explaining
that he had had one the day before yesterday, sat down and lost seven
games right off. He gave up at the seventh game, and pushing back his
chair, said that he thought Mrs. Pullen was the most wonderful draught-
player he had ever seen, and took no notice when Mrs. Tidger, in a dry
voice charged with subtle meaning, said that she thought he was.

"Draughts come natural to some people," said Mrs. Pullen, modestly.
"It's as easy as kissing your fingers."

Mr. Miller looked doubtful; then he put his great fingers to his lips by
way of experiment, and let them fall unmistakably in the widow's
direction. Mrs. Pullen looked down and nearly blushed. The carpenter
and his wife eyed each other in indignant consternation.

"That's easy enough," said the dealer, and repeated the offense.

Mrs. Pullen got up in some confusion, and began to put the draught-board
away. One of the pieces fell on the floor, and as they both stooped to
recover it their heads bumped. It was nothing to the dealer's, but Mrs.
Pullen rubbed hers and sat down with her eyes watering. Mr. Miller took
out his handkerchief, and going to the scullery, dipped it into water and
held it to her head.