“That’s right,” said Crispin. “And flowers on the organ. I’ll order the confetti. The best way is to get it by the hundredweight.”
Herrick tugged his moustache.
“You’re sure,” he said humbly, “you’re sure, Nell, you wouldn’t like quite a quiet show? You know. Sort of hidin’ our light under a bushel.”
“Positive, darling,” said Eleanor. “I want to splurge. Besides, we can go to Nice any old time. Can we have a guard of honour?”
“There you are,” said Crispin. “They’re squabbling already.”
“Look here,” said Madge, laughing. “Within limits of reason each of you’s anxious to do what the other wants. Am I right?”
“My heart’s desire,” said David piously.
“Liar,” said Eleanor. “Go on, Madge.”
“Very well. I’ve got a plan. Certain things, like her trousseau, are left to the woman, and certain other things are always left to the man. Now, that’s a bad arrangement, because the woman gets what she wants and the man pleases himself.”
“Why’s that bad?” said Eleanor suspiciously.