"And I seen it wrote in the paper I signed my name to. I mind
she rolled up the paper afterwards and put it--well, I dunno where, but
she took it away with her, and says to you: 'That's safe, now'--or
'You're safe,' or 'I'm safe,'--anyway, some darned thing was safe. And I
was goin' to kiss the bride--mebbe I did kiss her--only I'd likely
remember it if I had, drunk or sober! And--oh, now I got it!" Bill's
voice was full of elation. "You was goin' to kiss the bride--that was
it, it was you goin' to kiss her, and she slap--no, by hokey, she
didn't slap you, she just--or was it Rock, now?" Doubt filled his eyes
distressfully. "Darn my everlastin' hide," he finished lamely, "there
was some kissin' somew'ere in the deal, and I mind her cryin'
afterwards, but whether it was about that, or--Say, Sandy, what was it
Ford was lickin' the preacher for? Wasn't it for kissin' the bride?"
"It was for marrying him to her," Sandy informed him sententiously.
Ford got up and went to the little window and looked out. Presently he
came back to the stove and stood staring disgustedly down upon the
effusively friendly Bill, leering up at him pacifically.
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