“Very extraordinary,” said the priest, wiping his forehead with his handkerchief. “This could happen in no other country in the world.”
“Write him a check, Billy, for what you owe him,” said Curves, “and then we’ll go out and get married. And don’t you think it would be nice to have him to dinner with us?”
“Sure thing, and we’ll have the other fellow who bid along, too. By the way, who is he? I don’t ever remember to have seen him before. Do you know him?”
Now what a chance here for a climax, for a real whipping finish, as it were. It might be arranged so that the girl would say sadly:
“Yes, he holds the mortgage on the farm and has threatened to foreclose it if I don’t marry him. Oh, Billy, you must save me.”
Then Billy would pull out his check book, pay the villain off to the penny and the man would go tearing out of the door shouting:
“Foiled again, c-u-u-rses on you, but I’ll have revenge,” with the accent on revenge.
But no such thing happened, because you see Curves never had an interest in a farm, and it is very much to be doubted if she knew anything about a father or mother. The result was that she said:
“Oh, I suppose he’s some guy that’s been to the show and got stuck on my shape.”
The honeymoon lasted six months, which was enough for Billy, and he beat it to New Orleans, while his friends told Curves that they thought he had committed suicide.