“Know what I think, Gil?” Ferdy asked portentously.
“No,” replied Mr Ringwood. “Damned if I know what I think!”
“Just what I was going to say!” said Ferdy. “Damned if I know what I think!”
Pleased to find themselves in such harmonious agreement, they linked arms in a friendly fashion, and proceeded down the road in the direction of Conduit Street.
“Dear little soul, you know,” presently remarked Mr Ringwood. “Seems to think the devil of a lot of Sherry.”
The slight uneasiness in his voice penetrated to Ferdy’s intelligence. He stopped suddenly and said: “I’ll tell you what, Gil!”
“Well, what?” asked Mr Ringwood.
Ferdy considered the matter. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “Better look in at Limmer’s, since we’re so close, and have a third of daffy!”
The bridal couple, meanwhile, were rattling over the cobbles in the direction of St James’s Street. The groom put his arm round the bride’s waist and said: “Devilish sorry I forgot the ring, Kitten! Buy you one tomorrow.”
“I like this one,” Hero said, looking down at it. “I like to have it because it is your very own.”