“Everything’s all right,” said Oliver, with a touch of aggressiveness. “We thought we’d make a day of it. I’ll tell you all about it presently.”
“You’ll tell me now,” Arthur said.
“Oh, all right.” Oliver stood with his hand upon the back of Maggie’s chair. He bent suddenly over her. “Sure you want me to tell, Maggie?” he said.
She put up a trembling hand in answer. Abruptly he stooped lower and kissed her before them all.
The violent overturning of Arthur’s chair as he sprang to his feet brought him upright again with a jerk. He broke in upon the other’s furious oath with quick speech that yet was not wholly uncontrolled.
“Yes, you can damn as much as you please,” he said. “It won’t make a ha’porth of difference now. She is mine—for better for worse—and you can’t undo it. We were married to-day at Fordestown—after we’d sold the pigs.”
“Married!” The single word fell with frightful force from Arthur’s lips. He put his hand suddenly to his head.
Maggie crouched against her mother, and Mrs. Dermot, pale as death, put her arm about her without a word.
Then across the silence, shrill as the piping of a bird, came Nell’s voice. “Well played, Oliver! I wish you luck!”
He turned to her with his winning boyish smile and gripped her outstretched hand across the table.