XVII
A few minutes later, amid a hideous scene of riot, where young men were fleeing distractedly in every direction, where excited young girls were dragging them, struggling and screaming, into cabs, where even the police were rushing hither and thither in desperate search for a place to hide in, the Governor of New York and Professor Elizabeth Challis might have been seen whirling downtown in a taxicab toward the marriage license bureau.
Her golden head lay close to his; his moustache rested against her delicately flushed cheek. A moment later she sat up straight in dire consternation.
"Oh, those papers! The draft of the bill!" she exclaimed. "Where is it?"
"Did you want it, Betty?" he asked, surprised.
"Why—why, no. Didn't you want it, George?"
"I? Not at all."
"Then why on earth did you keep me imprisoned in that room so long if you didn't want those papers?"