"Vit questions, poissonally," Mr. Baumann hastened to explain.
"Oh!"
"In Nevada," Baumann insinuated, still hopeful, "I could marry you myself—now, right here."
"Could you marry us in this smoking room?"
"In a cattle car, if you vant it."
"It's not a bad idea," said Mallory. "I'll let you know."
Seeing Marjorie coming down the aisle, he hastened to her, and hugged her good-morning with a new confidence.
Dr. and Mrs. Temple, who had returned to their berth, witnessed this greeting with amazement. After the quarrel of the night before surely some explanation should have been overheard, but the puzzling Mallorys flew to each other's arms without a moment's delay. The mystery was exciting the passengers to such a point that they were vowing to ask a few questions point blank. Nobody had quite dared to approach either of them, but frank curiosity was preferable to nervous prostration, and the secret could not be kept much longer. Fellow-passengers have some rights. Not even a stranger can be permitted to outrage their curiosity with impunity forever.
Seeing them together, Mrs. Temple watched the embrace with her daily renewal of joy that the last night's quarrel had not proved fatal. She nudged her husband:
"See, they're making up again."