“That is to say, my bride.”
“Your bride, Mr Frederic?”
“I'm going to be married.”
“Bless my soul, sir!”
“You seem surprised.”
“Ahem! I should 'ave said, 'God be praised,' sir.”
“Now that I think of it, don't mention it to Mr Dawes and Mr Riggs. Let me make the announcement, Jones.”
“Certainly, sir. It is most confidential, of course. Bless my—I mean to say, Golden Seal, sir?”
“Any old thing, Jones.”
“May I offer my congratulations, Mr Frederic? Thank you, sir. Ahem! Aw—ahem! Anyways soon, sir?”