"Ain't I got a few vit me? Do you vant to get a nice re-marriage license?"
"Re-marriage?—huh!" he looked round and, seeing that no one else was near: "I haven't taken the first step yet."
Mr. Baumann layed his hands in one another: "A betchelor? Ah, I see you vant to marry a nice divorcee lady in R-r-reno?"
"She isn't in Reno and she has never been married, either."
This simple statement seemed to astound Mr. Baumann:
"A betcheller marry a maiden!—in Reno!—oi, oi, oi! It hasn't been done yet, but it might be."
Mallory looked him over and a twinge of distaste disturbed him: "You furnish the license, but—er—ah—is there any chance of a clergyman—a Christian clergyman—being at the station?"
"Vy do you vant it a cloigyman? Can't I do it just as good? Or a nice fat alderman I can get you?"
Mallory pondered: "I don't think she'd like anything but a clergyman."
"Vell," Baumann confessed, "a lady is liable to be particular about her foist marriage. Anyvay I sell you de license."