“Oh, well!” said Sam, straightening his tie modestly. “It’s awfully good of you....”
“But that’s all over, father.”
“What’s all over?”
“You told me yourself that you had broken off my engagement to Bream.”
“Well—er—yes, I did,” said Mr. Bennett, a little taken aback. “That is—to a certain extent—so. But,” he added, with restored firmness, “it’s on again!”
“But I don’t want to marry Bream!”
“Naturally!” said Sam. “Naturally! Quite out of the question. In a few days we’ll all be roaring with laughter at the very idea.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want! A girl who gets engaged to a dozen men in three weeks....”
“It wasn’t a dozen!”
“Well, four—five—six—you can’t expect me not to lose count.... I say a girl who does that does not know what she wants, and older and more prudent heads must decide for her. You are going to marry Bream Mortimer!”