“Good Lord, what have I got to do with it?”
“Why, darn it all, you'd ought to have put up a few huts with 'For Rent' signs on 'em, or else—”
“By George, Buck! I've got it,” cried Percival excitedly. “Have you thought of a wedding journey?”
“A what?”
“Wedding trip,—honeymoon.”
“Well, we might walk up and down the main street here a coupla times,” said Buck sarcastically. “Or take a stroll along the beach or something like that.”
“What's the matter with a nice long sea voyage?”
“Say, I'm not kidding about this thing,” exclaimed Mr. Chizler, bristling. “I'm in dead earnest.”
“Has it occured to you that the Doraine is lying out there in the harbour—Here! Look out! I don't like being hugged by—”
“My gosh, A. A! Oh, my gosh!” barked the ecstatic bridegroom-apparent. “How did you happen to think of such a beautiful, wonderful—”