Trapes snorted. "Now look-a-here, Mr. Geoffrey, what d'
ye want with Hermy; is it a wife you're after or only--"
"Mrs. Trapes!" Ravenslee was upon his feet, and before the sudden glare
in his eyes Mrs. Trapes gaped and for once fell silent. "Mrs. Trapes,"
said he, still frowning a little, "really you--you almost--made me
angry."
"My land!" said she, "I'm kind o' glad I didn't--quite!" and her sniff
was eloquent.
"You see," he went on, glancing down at the letter again, "I've learned
to love and reverence her so much that your suggestion--hurt rather!"
"Why, then, Mr. Geoffrey, I'm sorry. But if your love is so big an' true
as all that--if you want her t' be a wife t' you--why in the 'tarnal
didn't ye speak out an' tell her so?"
"I'll go and tell her so this minute."
"Y' can't! She's gone t' Bronx Park with that b'y, 'n' won't be back
all day."
"Damn!" exclaimed Ravenslee.
"Sure!" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "Keep on, it'll do ye good. But anyway, what
y' got t' say'll keep, I guess--it'll gush out all the stronger fer
bein' bottled up a day or two.
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