"The truth is, I've gone and done it.
I'm going to be married in June, and I want you to be my best man." Warrington's hand went out impulsively.
"Oh, I felt it in my bones when your card came in," he said, rearranging the glasses.

"Lucky woman! Long life to you, Jack, and long happiness!" "Thank you, Dick." (Ceremonial recurrence of drinking a health.) "Now, out with it.

Who is she, and all about her ?" "Dick, I'm genuinely sorry, but I'm still under bond of silence." "More mysteries!" cried Warrington, with evident discontent.
"Only for a week, when, if you say, we'll have breakfast here in these very rooms.
"Done.

Only I must say you're a bit hard on me to-night.
"I'm sorry." "Let me see; I'll describe her for you.

Beautiful." "Yes." "Accomplished." "Very." "A woman who will be both wife and comrade." "Exactly." "An American." "In all things." "You make me envious." "Why don't you get married yourself ?" "Bah!" Warrington went to the window and looked down upon the street.
Bennington eyed his broad shoulders sympathetically.