He looked at her in amazement.
"That day you told me you had decided to get married—and asked my advice about the girls among our friends—that was the day I began to feel I'd have to go. It's been getting worse ever since."
Once more silence, both looking uneasily about, their glances avoiding each other. The door of the printing room opened, and Holman, the printer, came in, his case in his grimy hand. Said he:
"Where's the rest of that street car article?"
"I beg your pardon," said Selma, starting up and taking some manuscript from her desk and handing it to him.
"Louis," said Victor, as Holmes was retreating, "Selma and I are going to be married."
Louis paused, but did not look round. "That ain't what'd be called news," said he. "I've known it for more than three years."
He moved on toward his room. "I'll be ready for that leading article in half an hour. So, you'd better get busy."
He went out, closing the door behind him. Selma and Victor looked at each other and burst out laughing. Then—still laughing—they took hold of hands like two children. And the next thing they knew they were tight in each other's arms, and Selma was sobbing wildly.