Mr Bunker raised his eyebrows.
“It’s hardly the time of year for a romance to end in a bathing-machine. You followed the divinity to her rented heaven, perhaps?”
The Baron bent forward and answered in a stage whisper, “Zey live in zis hotel, Bonker!”
“Then I can only wish you joy, Baron, and if my funds allow me, send her a wedding present.”
“Ach, not quite so fast, my vriend! I am not caught so easy.”
“My dear fellow, a week at close quarters is sufficient to net any man.”
“Ven I marry,” replied the Baron, “moch most be considered. A von Blitzenberg does not mate viz every vun.”
“A good many families have made the same remark, but one does not always meet the fathers-in-law.”
“Ha, ha! ve shall see. Bot, Bonker, she is lofly!”
The Baron awaited dinner with even more than his usual ardour. He dressed with the greatest care, and at an absurdly early hour was already urging his friend to come down and take their places. Indeed after a time there was no withholding him, and they finally took their seats in the dining-room before anybody else.