"Nothing important," replied Updyke—"just vagaries of the mind. He'll get over it in a day or two. Perhaps his words 'the church' signified a hazy recollection of the wedding held there to-day. The camera man shot a lot of pictures. Better hold on to some of the proofs for the gallery," laughed Updyke.
"The Updyke gallery?—never! You may have one for your private office," said the secretary, after a pause.
"Old stingy—always keeping down expenses, eh? Proofs only cost a dollar apiece—good ones, I mean. Spoils, only a quarter. I presume I'll get one of the spoils," laughed the big fellow.
"If you talk that way, I'll keep all of them," bantered Mary Johnson. "Where are they now?"
"What—the pictures?"
"No—the happy couple?"
"Asleep—I guess," replied Updyke, blandly.
"You are quite impossible, after your long ride all by yourself. I believe you are jealous of George."
"No, you are wrong, Mary. It's not him, much as I admire his wife."
"Who else could it be?" giggled Mary.