"No, possibly not; but tell me, anyway," she said.
"Sometimes, I put him to bed--and, sometimes, I bought him a
superabundance of red liquor."
"Don't tell me the other times," she interposed.
"No," said I, "I won't."
She fell to plucking the roses again.
"This Captain Smith," she said presently; "was he in Valeria six years
ago?"
"That would be in 189--?" I reflected a moment. "Yes he was here that
year."