"Sounds fine, doesn't it?" he
demanded, with an uxorious air.
"Yes," Mary said, but there was no enthusiasm in her tone.
The husband went on speaking with no apparent heed of his wife's
indifference.
"You pack up what things you need, girlie," he directed. "Just a
few--because they sell clothes in Paris. And they are some class,
believe me! And meantime, I'll run down to Dad's office, and have
him back here in half an hour. You will be all ready, won't
you?"
Mary answered quickly, with a little catching of her breath, but
still coldly.
"Yes, yes, I'll be ready. Go and bring your father."
"You bet I will," Dick cried heartily. He would have taken her
in his arms again, but she evaded the caress. "What's the
matter?" he demanded, plainly at a loss to understand this
repulse.
"Nothing!" was the ambiguous answer.
"Just one!" Dick pleaded.
"No," the bride replied, and there was determination in the
monosyllable.
It was evident that Dick perceived the futility of argument.
"For a married woman you certainly are shy," he replied, with a
sly glance toward Aggie, who beamed back sympathy.
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