As the immaculate young woman and the tired but happy-looking young man entered the Pullman, followed by a grinning porter, the other passengers became “wise” in a moment. The stout drummer leaned over to the man behind him and remarked:
“Bride and groom—100 to 1.”
Every one turned to view the newcomers, who had deposited themselves vis-à-vis in No. 4. As if unconscious of any scrutiny, the young man said, in a high, nasal voice:
“Well, do as you like about it; either increase the margin or let it go. You didn’t follow my advice in the first place, but if you want to pull out, you’d better do it now.”
“Oh, I know,” the woman replied. “What’s the use of going all over it again?”
“Huh!” said the stout man’s companion. “Guess you lose. Been playing the market. Not much bride and groom talk in that.”
The rest of the passengers sniffed and then turned their backs on the new couple. Whereat the young man smiled at the young woman, and they softly joined hands as he whispered:
“Millicent, dear, my shoes are full of rice.”