“I beg your pardon, old chap. I couldn't help laughing. It's because I'm happy. Don't mind me. Go ahead. You're thinking of getting married, eh? Well, what's to prevent?”
“Do you approve of it? That's what I want to know.”
“Sure. Of course, I approve of it.”
“I just thought I'd make sure. You see, nobody's ever got married here before, and I didn't know what you'd think of me—er—sort of breaking the ice, don't you see.”
“She's finally said 'yes,' has she? Good girl! Congratulations, old chap,—thousands of 'em'—millions.”
“Well, that takes some of the load off my mind,” said Buck, as they shook hands. “Now, there's one or two things more. First, she says she won't come and live in a hut where five men besides myself are bunking. I don't blame her, do you? Second, she says if we ever get rescued from this island, she won't let me go to the war,—not a step, she swears. I put up a holler right away. I says to her I was on my way to the war before I ever met her, and then she says I ain't got anything on her. She was going over to nurse. But she says if she gets married she's going to claim exemption, or whatever they call it, and she says I got to do the same,—'cause we'll both have dependents then. Then I says the chances are the war's over by this time anyhow, and she says a feller in the Argentine told her on his word of honour it wouldn't be over for five years or more. But that's a minor point. What's rusting me is this: how am I going to get rid of them five guys in my cabin?”
“Have you told them you're going to be married?”
“Oh, hell, they're the ones that told me.”
“It's pretty rough weather to turn men out into the cold, unfeeling world, Buck.”
Buck scratched his ear in deep perplexity. “Well, it's got me guessing.” He slumped into an attitude of profound dejection. “What we'd ought to have done, A. A., was to build a hotel or something like that. If we had a hotel here, there'd be so blamed many weddings you couldn't keep track of 'em. That's the only thing that's holding people back. Why, half the unmarried fellers here are thinking about getting married. They're thinking, and thinking, and thinking, morning, noon and night. And they've got the girls thinking, too,—and most of the widders and old maids besides. I don't see how a smart feller like you, A. A., happened to overlook the possibility of just this kind of thing happening.”