"Of course," said Hudson, almost blushing, "but it was taken. This was the best we could do for them."
"That's why we want to make it nice and bridelike," said Shaw. "Perhaps you could help us—a woman's touch——"
"Oh, I'd love to," she glowed, hastening into the section among the young men and the bundles. The unusual stir attracted the porter's suspicions. He came forward with a look of authority:
"'Scuse me, but wha—what's all this?"
"Vanish—get out," said Hudson, poking a coin at him. As he turned to obey, Mrs. Whitcomb checked him with: "Oh, Porter, could you get us a hammer and some nails?"
The porter almost blanched: "Good Lawd, Miss, you ain't allowin' to drive nails in that woodwork, is you?" That woodwork was to him what the altar is to the priest.
But Hudson, resorting to heroic measures, hypnotized him with a two-dollar bill: "Here, take this and see nothing, hear nothing, say nothing." The porter caressed it and chuckled: "I'm blind, deaf and speechless." He turned away, only to come back at once with a timid "'Scuse me!"
"You here yet?" growled Hudson.
Anxiously the porter pleaded: "I just want to ast one question. Is you all fixin' up for a bridal couple?"
"Foolish question, number eight million, forty-three," said Shaw. "Answer, no, we are."