Dr. Temple was moved to a violent outburst for him: "Well, that's the darnedest bridal couple—I only said darn, my dear."
He was still more startled when Mr. Baumann, cruising along the aisle, bent over to murmur: "Can I fix you a nice divorce?"
Dr. Temple rose in such an attitude of horror as he assumed in the pulpit when denouncing the greatest curse of society, and Mr. Baumann retired. As he passed Mallory he cast an appreciative glance at Marjorie and, tapping Mallory's shoulder, whispered: "No vonder you want a marriage license. I'll be in the next car, should you neet me." Then he went on his route.
Marjorie stared after him in wonder and asked: "What did that person mean by what he said?"
"It's all right, Marjorie," Mallory explained, in the highest cheer: "We can get married right away."
Marjorie declined to get her hopes up again: "You're always saying that."
"But here's the license—see?"
"What good is that?" she said, "there's no preacher on board."
"But that man is a justice of the peace and he'll marry us."
Marjorie stared at him incredulously: "That creature!—before all these passengers?"