I
rushed out here, and heard that there was a Cameron (only they must have
meant Campbell) at Sunset. So I got a license, and the Reverend
Sanderson, and took the evening train down there. At the hotel I asked
for Mr. Cameron, and they sent you in. And you know the rest, you--you
old fraud! How you palmed yourself off on me--"
"I never did! I must have just been in one of my obliging moods; and a
man would have to be mighty rude and unkind not to say yes to a pretty
girl when--"
That is as far as the discussion went, with anything like continuity or
coherence even. Later, however, Josephine did protest somewhat
muffledly: "But, Ford, I married you under the name of Frank Cameron, so
I don't believe--and anyway--I'd like a real wedding--and a ring!"
Mrs. Kate, having been solemnly assured by Rock that Ford was sober and
as nearly in his right mind as a man violently in love can be (Rock made
it plain, by implication at least, that he did not consider that very
near), ventured into the kitchen just then. She still looked scared and
uncertain, until, through the half-open door of the pantry, she heard
soft, whispery sounds like kissing--when the kissing is a rapture rather
than a ceremony.
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