Hedgerly shook his head impatiently. "I fail to see why people rant against their fate. It is written that Peter and Marie get married. It is also written that they celebrate their golden wedding anniversary—shucks, I was there as a kid and I know. They were very happy together."
"So?" demanded Joan.
"So you might as well give up," said Hedgerly. "As I told Peter when I arrived a few days ago, I've come to help him. The chances are that things would have gone off all right if I'd not come. Peter and Marie would have met, regardless. As for you and Tony, Joan, I might tell you that you were very happy together, too. So you might as well give up completely and accept the dictates of fate."
"I hate to go through the motions of a play for nothing," grunted Tony.
Hedgerly winked at Joan. "You'll find some of the motions are fun," he said.
The door opened and the other couple came in. Hedgerly looked at them and smiled genially. "Have fun?" he asked. His tone was that of an indulgent father.
Peter looked vague. "We've been sitting and talking."
"No better way of becoming acquainted," smiled Hedgerly. He leaned back over the divan. "Let's go out and leave them alone," he said in a low, quiet voice.
Tony shook his head. "I live in strict bachelor quarters," he said. "And Joan couldn't have a visitor at this time of night. And I'll not go out and sit on a park bench so that some bird can make time in a comfortable living room with my fiancee."
Hedgerly shrugged. "This, then, is one time when four's company but five's a crowd." He said goodnight all around and then left, knowing that the two couples would talk for hours, and each word would bring better understanding.