In the light of the events of the morning, Miss Fitzgerald was naturally desirous of becoming better acquainted with the appearance of a special licence, and in the seclusion of the billiard-room, Lieutenant Kingsland was able to gratify her curiosity.
"Quite an expensive luxury, I've been given to understand," she said reflectively, regarding the parchment.
"Yes," admitted Kingsland regretfully, "it means a special messenger to the Archbishop, wherever he may happen to be. He never's by any chance at 'Lambeth' when you want him, and fees all along the line."
"A matter of forty pounds, I've been told."
"Well, call it thirty. I know the crowd."
"I shouldn't have suspected you of being ecclesiastical."
"It's a long story, and not to the point. Now, what have you done?"
"Considering that you were thoughtful enough to procure that licence, I've done everything."
"Bravo! When can the ceremony take place?"
"Before early service Sunday morning, say a quarter to eight."