"The wedding-ring! Good gad, no! I never thought of that. It's the engagement ring I've got."
"The other one comes after, eh?"
"I gave twenty sovereigns for it."
"That's a pile." What the smile meant in Mr. Ash's eyes it would be difficult to say.
"He wanted forty-five. I beat him down. Said I'd seen its own brother at Attenborough's for ten." There was a pause. Then Mr. Ely began again. "I say, Ash, when do you think the wedding could come off?"
"In a hurry? Well, what do you say to twelve months, my boy?"
"Twelve months! Twelve months be hanged! A month's enough for me."
"A month! The girl won't have time to turn herself round. And you've a house to take, and all the rest of it."
"You say the word, and I'll have a house by to-morrow night, and get it furnished in a week."
"But, my dear boy, you don't seem to be aware that the lady generally has a voice in that kind of thing."