Marriage, the dynamite of the soul; that was what hit Bobbie. He married. Have you ever seen a bull–pup chasing a bee? The pup sees the bee. It looks good to him. But he still doesn't know what's at the end of it till he gets there. It was like that with Bobbie. He fell in love, got married—with a sort of whoop, as if it were the greatest fun in the world—and then began to find out things.
I didn't ask for details. Women with hair and chins like Mary's may be angels most of the time, but, when they take off their wings for a bit, they aren't half–hearted about it.
"He was a man who acted from the best motives. There is one born every minute."
"Change of scene's the thing. I knew a man. Girl refused him. Man went abroad. Two months later girl wired him, 'Come back. Muriel.' Man started to write out a reply; suddenly found that he couldn't remember girl's surname; so never answered at all."
We crept downstairs. "We'll fling the door open and make a rush," said Bill. "Supposing they shoot, old scout?" "Burglars never shoot," said Bill. Which was comforting provided the burglars knew it.