The silence was broken
by Ted's saying violently,
"I _will_ marry her! I don't give a damn what's happened."
"Good egg. Of course you will." Oliver chuckled.
Ted turned to him anxiously after another silence.
"Look Ollie, that bump on my head--you've seen the size it is. Well, is it
going to just show up like _thunder_ at this silly dance?"
XLV
Half-past five in the morning and Oliver undressing wearily by the light of
a pale pink dawn.
Now and then he looks at his bed with a gloating expression that almost
reaches the proportions of a lust--he is so tired he can hardly get off his
clothes. The affairs of the last twenty-four hours mix in his mind like
a jumble of colored postcards, all loose and disconnected and brightly
unreal. Ted--Elinor--Mrs. Severance--Mr. Piper--the dance he has just
left--sleep--oh--sleep!
Where is Ted? Somewhere with Elinor of course--it doesn't matter--both
were looking suspiciously starry when he last saw them across the
room--engagements--marriages--sleep--Mr. Piper's revolver--sleep. How will
he return Mr. Piper's revolver? Can't do it tactfully--can't leave it
around to be lost, the servants are too efficient--send it to Ted and
Elinor as a wedding present--no, that's not tactful either--what silly
thoughts--might have been dead by this time--rather better, being
alive--and in bed--and asleep--and asleep.
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