He looked at his watch, and was surprised to discover that it was no later than half-past eight. He seemed to have lived a lifetime in the last few hours.
"Thank you, sir," said Tracey with a gush of gratitude. "I'll be glad to get off. Angle's waiting."
"Angle——?"
"Good-evening, Mr. Duncan."
"Oh, Miss Tuthill!" Nat discovered that little rogue, all smiles and dimples and blushes, not distant from his elbow. "I didn't see you—I was thinking."
"Guess we know what you was thinkin' about," observed Tracey, bringing his hat round the counter. "Everybody in town's talkin' about it."
"About what?"
"Ah, you know about what, and we're mighty glad of it, and we want to congratulate you, don't we, Angie."
"Oh, yes, indeed, Mr. Duncan. It's just too sweet for anything."
"O Lord!" groaned Nat.