"It's all that parson's fault!" he cried vehemently. "I knew all along it meant bad luck. Gosh, what a Paradise this world would be if only clergymen could stand on chairs without spraining their ankles! I'm done for."
"Who is this May Stubbs?"
"I knew her in East Gilead," said George hopelessly. "We were sort of engaged."
Hamilton Beamish pursed his lips.
"Apart from the slovenly English of the phrase, which is perhaps excusable in the circumstances, I cannot see how you can have been 'sort of' engaged. A man is either engaged or he is not."
"Not where I come from. In East Gilead they have what they call understandings."
"And there was an understanding between you and this Miss Stubbs?"
"Yes. Just one of those boy and girl affairs. You know. You see a girl home once or twice from church, and you take her to one or two picnics, and people kid you about her, and ... well, there you are. I suppose she thought we were engaged. And now she's read in the papers about my wedding, and has come to make herself unpleasant."
"Did you and this girl quarrel before you separated?"
"No. We sort of drifted apart. I took it for granted that the thing was over and done with. And when I saw Molly...."