“Yes,” he said, “I shall come. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. "Give back the things!" cried the, lady. . I think a wife a needless incumbrance, and mean to die a bachelor. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. Get a license—just an idea of mine.
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