“When do you wish for it?”
“First, Luke, answer me one question. Have you the very slightest love for me?”
“Do you want me to tell the truth or a lie?”
“Oh, what folly this is!” cried the woman. “A lie! I should soon detect it. The truth, man, and nothing else.”
“Then this is the truth—I do not love you.”
“I thought as much. Luke, when is our wedding to be?”
“You make a proposal, Clara, and I will see if I can yield to it.”
“We can be married by special license,” she said.
“Special license! Why throw away fifty pounds?”
“We can be married by special license,” repeated Nurse Ives; “so the wedding can take place this day week.”