“Well, darleen, what is it that you have of news about Rougette?”
“I don’t know. Lorrimer thinks she’ll have a mask down one side of her face. He swears he’s going to marry her though. Fancy” (I shuddered) “marrying a medallion. Now, there’s a dramatic situation for you. Handsome, romantic, young artist—wife, supremely beautiful to port, a hideous mask to starboard. His increasing love of the beautiful side, his growing horror of the other. His guilty knowledge that he is himself responsible for the disfigurement ... why! what a stunning story it would make, and what a tragic dénouement! How mean of life to steal so brazenly the material of fiction!”
“Poor, poor girl,” sighed Anastasia. “I must go to the hospital and see her this afternoon. And I too I have some news for you.”
“Not bad, I hope?”
“No, I sink you are please. It is that Monsieur Helstern have call. He was so funny, so shy, so glad about somesing. Well, what you sink? He and Frosine get marry very soon and want you to be witness.”
“Good! It’ll be the best thing in the world for the old chap.”
“Yes, he seem very happy—quite different.”
“Funny,” I remarked, “how every one’s thoughts seem turning to marriage. It must be epidemic. There’s Helstern and Frosine. Here’s Lorrimer saying he’ll marry Rougette; and this morning, Monsieur Bébérose. By Jove! and weren’t we talking about it too! Ah, there’s an idea! Why shouldn’t we have our second marriage at the same time as Helstern and Lorrimer get tied up? You see four witnesses are needed at the ceremony, two male and two female. We can act as one another’s witnesses as well as get married ourselves. And just think of the money we’ll save on the carriages and the supper! Talk of killing three birds with one stone!”
“We must get my mother’s consentement first.”
“Ah, yes, my belligerent belle-mère. Well, we’ll go and interview her to-morrow.”