“The deuce you are!” Ethan simulated intense surprise.
“Yep!” Vincent grinned triumphantly.
“Who to, you idiot?”
“Why, haven’t I told you? To Laura Devereux. They’re the folks I’ve been talking about. They have The Larches. You knew that!”
“Yes, but—when did it happen?”
“About an hour or so ago. I didn’t mean to do it to-day, but—hang it, Eth, I just simply had to! She’s the best girl in the world, old chap, and the prettiest too. I want you to see her. When you do you’ll understand. I told her about you and she wants me to bring you up to-night.”
“I hope you’ll be mighty happy, Vin.” They shook hands there in the empty road very gravely in spite of their smiling faces. “And congratulate her, too, old man. You’re rather a good sort—at times. And of course I’ll get you to take me to see her just as soon as I come back. I’ll have to get on the good side of her so she’ll let me come and see you once in a while when you’re married. When’s it to be?”
“Don’t be an ass!” grunted Vincent. “As for when, well, we haven’t settled that yet. Maybe it won’t be until Spring; I fancy she would rather wait until then. And I ought to get things fixed up a bit first, too,” he added vaguely.
“Oh, it won’t take you long to burn a few letters and photographs,” answered Ethan flippantly.