"This is Monday. Say Thursday--next?"
"Rodney! How can you?"
"Then make it Friday--if you've no prejudice against the day."
"I'll never be married on a Friday."
"Then postpone it to that far-off date, Saturday, or even Monday. I don't know if you want a smart wedding; if you do, what indefinite postponement may the conventions require?"
"I don't want a smart wedding."
"That sounds hopeful. You're all I want; I don't know if I'm all you want."
"Well; you are one thing."
"Am I? Thanks--you have a nice way. I tell you what, I'll get a special licence--hang the expense--and we'll be married on Monday."
"I won't be married in black, and I will have one bridesmaid; I'll have Cissie Henderson. She's my particular friend; she likes you; she's been on our side all through; and she'll strain a point--when I've put it to her as I shall, she'll have to. As a matter of fact, I believe she'll love to."