"It is a long ride," she ventured.
"Too short," he replied, "and yet, I wish we were there."
Again she spoke: "This is a most unprecedented affair. Can it be
real, or are we actors?"
"We are detectives, and they always do unexpected and unprecedented
things."
"What will your father say--you a multimillionaire and I a poor girl
who works for a living?"
"My mother was poor and blind when my father married her."
"Yes, I know; but she wrote a book and became famous."
"You're a 'wonder' now, and you will become famous."
"What will your friends say?"
"If they wish to remain my friends they will either say nothing, or
congratulate me. How shall we be married--in church? I'll spend a
hundred thousand on our wedding, if you say so."
"No. As little publicity as possible. Use the money to help those
poor creatures who are sick with the disease called crime; that is
the symptom. The cause is often bad environment, and the poverty
which prevents improvement."
"What a philosopher you are. That simple ceremony suits me exactly,
Mary. What a sweet name you have. Why not have Mr. Dysart perform the
ceremony? We'll be married with a ring."
Mary laughed: "Where will you get yours?"
"Detectives are always prepared for emergencies. I bought them this
noon, after I procured the license. They seemed to go together."
"Well, Quincy, I think you are the most presumptuous mortal in
existence.
Pages:
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307