"The information you offer conveys to me the impression that a woman loves shadows, but a man loves sunshine and glare; a woman loves dress, but a man loves tobacco; a woman desires daintiness and neatness attended with any degree of discomfort, but a man prefers comfort with no matter how much litter and mess; a woman loves indoor sports, like sewing, and a man loves outdoor sports, like whittling sticks and making the acquaintance of a hound-dog with fleas on his body and mud on his feet; a man loves to sing and hear himself sing, and the woman prefers to hear some other man sing; a woman wants her female companions with their confidences and their secrets, and a man desires his male companions and their secrets, but neither party to the matrimonial alliance is willing that the partner should keep a secret. Am I right as far as I've gone?"
"Dat's right!" they said in positive tones.
"But de fuss part, Marse John, is de money!" the woman shrieked.
"Certainly," Flournoy agreed softly. "Matrimony is always a matter of money."
Then Flournoy took a key from his pocket and opened the bracelets on their wrists. The chain fell at their feet. The bride and bridegroom looked away, each ignoring the presence of the other.
Plaster Sickety thrust both hands into his pockets, brought out twenty-five dollars and thirty cents and laid it into the open palm of the sheriff.
"Fer Gawd's sake, git me a deevo'ce!" he pleaded.
"Make it two, Marse John," the girl urged. "I's plum' nauseated wid dat nigger man."
The bride and bridegroom turned and walked away, choosing different paths and going in opposite directions. They did not look back.