“What is happening?” the Greek asked quietly and seriously. “Why you not sign the paper?”
“Don’t hurry him,” Loretta said. “Let him pull himself together.”
“He looks nervous,” the Greek said. “I think he is very nervous.”
“Really?” Her tone was musing. “I’d say that’s rather strange. After all, this was his idea.”
“Maybe he changes his mind.” The old man spoke solemnly. “After all, marriage is no joke. It is a big step. Many men, they get scared.”
“Well,” she said, “if he wants to back out, this is the time to do it.”
Kerrigan turned slowly and looked at her. She was smiling at him. He pivoted hard, bent over the table, and signed his name to the marriage license.
Then he picked up the license, shoved it at the old man, and said, “All right, let’s get this over with. Where’s the ring?”
The Greek put his hand in a pocket of the bathrobe, groped in there for a moment, and then took out a nickel-plated ring. It was thick and had a hinge that allowed it to open and close. Kerrigan took a closer look and saw it was a ring from a loose-leaf notebook.
“For God’s sake,” he said. “This ain’t no wedding ring.”