"Stamped--a sixpenny stamp, as I'm a sinner! Do you know, my dear, that this is a bill form which you've got here, good for any amount up to fifty pounds. Wherever did you get the thing? And what use do you suppose it is to you? What a practical-minded child it is! And I never guessed it till now! Tis a wonderful world that we live in!"
"You get a pen and write."
He took a fountain pen and a blotting pad from a table at the side, and spread out on the latter the crumpled bill stamp.
"Here we are. Now for the writing. 'Three months after date I promise to pay.' Is that the sort of thing I'm to write?"
"You write what I tell you."
"Tell on; I'm waiting."
"Write: 'I, Rodney Elmore, promise to marry on Thursday next Mabel Joyce, who is about to bear a child of which I am the father.' Have you got that? Why aren't you writing?"
"Before I start I want to see the finish; that is, I want to know all that I am to write."
"Except your signature and the date, that is all."
"Rather a considerable all, eh? What use do you suppose this will be to you when you've got it?"