"Why, we lived there once, Balmy. Old folks livin'?"

"Mother is; father's dead."

Bill scratched the back of his head, protruded his under lip, and reflected.

"I say, Arvie, what did yer father die of?"

"Heart disease. He dropped down dead at his work."

Long, low, intense whistle from Bill. He wrinkled his forehead
and stared up at the beams as if he expected to see something unusual there.
After a while he said, very impressively: "So did mine."

The coincidence hadn't done striking him yet; he wrestled with it
for nearly a minute longer. Then he said:

"I suppose yer mother goes out washin'?"

"Yes."

"'N' cleans offices?"

"Yes."

"So does mine. Any brothers 'n' sisters?"

"Two -- one brother 'n' one sister."

Bill looked relieved -- for some reason.