"Let's go get a license. Do you mind a justice-of-the-peace ceremony?"
"No; I prefer it."
"Bully for you. Where's my hat?"
"In the bedroom closet."
"How the deuce did it get in there?"
"I put it there. You kicked it under the couch when you were inspecting the pictures this morning."
"Was that this morning? It seems years ago," he said. "Jane, you won't make me keep my hat in that closet, will you?" he asked, when he came back with hat, stick, and gloves.
"I shall not marry you to reform you," she answered.
"Come on, then, if you're ready."
They went to the City Hall, talking of all kinds of irrelevant things. They were an incongruous-looking pair, the striking, smartly dressed man, and his working girl companion.