"You'll have to stay at home now you're a married man, old son," said Feathers chaffingly, though his eyes were serious. "I thought all Benedicts buried the latchkey before they went to church."
Chris laughed shortly.
"You thought wrong then; we're not like ordinary humdrum married people, are we, Marie Celeste?" he asked, rather maliciously, with sudden bitter memory of the kiss she had refused him last night.
She shook her head.
"No, indeed, we are not, and I hope you haven't buried the latchkey, because I shall want one, too," she added with an effort.
Chris laughed and looked triumphantly at his friend.
"How's that for an up-to-date wife, my boy?" he asked.
"And a bachelor husband," Marie added deliberately.
"I should have thought the old way would have been good enough," Feathers said bluntly. "Excuse me, there's a man I want to speak to." He struck off across the hotel grounds and left them.
Chris looked at his wife and laughed.