"Shall I offer my congratulations now?" asked Allingham, after a slight pause.
"How did you hear?" said Bailey, quickly. "Who told you?"
"I've seen it all along," answered Allingham. "No one has told me. Yes, she's a fine woman—the noblest I ever saw."
"Mary?—yes," said Bailey. "As fine as Gertrude, every bit."
"What?" gasped the other; "Mary Snow?"
"Why, yes, man," retorted Bailey. "What's the matter with you? Of course it's Mary Snow."
"Not Gertrude—Miss Van Deusen?" said Allingham, in strained tones.
"Well, for one who is so sharp as to 'see it all along,' I must say you're a little off the mark," answered Bailey. "I've been engaged to Mary Snow ever since the night we found them in the flat, but she's determined not to have it announced until her time is up at City Hall. Gertrude?—yes, she's pure gold. I thought once I loved her, but she was wiser than I. Mary is the only woman in the world for me." Then, seeing the look on his friend's face, he exclaimed:
"See here, Jack, what's the matter? I never dreamed it."
"Do you believe, Bailey, I stand any show? I confess I"—Allingham stopped; he could not talk about it, even to Armstrong in this hour of confidence.