She dropped on her knees, a blue denim angel on a cloud, praying higher.
He stormed: “For Heaven’s sake, get up! Somebody will see you.”
She did not budge. “I’ll not rise from my knees till you promise to marry me.”
He started to escape, moved toward the steps. She seized his knees and moaned:
“Oh, pity me! pity me!”
He was excruciated with her burlesque, tried to drag her to her feet, but he had only one hand and he could not manage her.
“Please get up. I can’t make you. I’ve only one arm.”
“Let’s see if it fits.” She rose and, holding his helpless hand, whirled round into his arm. “Perfect!” Then she stood there and called from her eyrie to the sea-gulls that haunted the river, “In the presence of witnesses this man has taken me for his affianced fiancée.”
They had a wedding in the village church. Abbie was matron of honor and gave her sister away. Her children 346 were very dressed up and highly uncomfortable. Abbie drew Mamise aside after the signing of the book.