“Bless me,” said Crandall, so much surprised at the unblushing proposal that he nearly awoke himself, “bless me, don’t you know that I am married?”
“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” answered the fair young lady, with the divinest of smiles.
“Doesn’t it?” said Mr. Crandall. “If you had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Crandall I think you would find that it did—very much indeed.”
“But we are not mortals; we are spirits.”
“Oh, are you? Well, of course that makes a difference,” replied Mr. Crandall much relieved, for he began to fear from the turn the conversation had taken that he was in the presence of two writers of modern novels.
“This lady,” continued the first speaker, “is the spirit of wealth. If you choose her you will be a very rich man before you die.”
“Oh, ho!” cried Crandall. “Are you sure of that?”
“Quite certain.”
“Well, then I won’t be long making my choice. I choose her, of course.”
“But you don’t know who I am. Perhaps when you know, you may wish to reverse your decision.”