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And as he sinks limp into a chair he glances appealin' at Mr. Robert, no doubt expectin' to be decorated on the spot. "By George!" says Mr. Robert. "Good work! But you haven't heard of my great luck meantime. Listen, Piddie. I am to be married!" I thought Piddie would croak. "Think of that, gentlemen," cuts in old Busbee sarcastic. "He is to be married!"
Gentlemen," he goes on, shakin' hands right and left without noticin' how reluctant some of the palms came out, "I er I have a little announcement to make." "Humph!" snorts old Busbee. "Have you?" "Yes," says Mr. Robert, smilin' mushy. "I er the fact is, I am going to be married." "The bonehead!" I whispers husky.
Say, without even stoppin' to size 'em up, he prances right in amongst 'em, free and careless. "Why, hello, Ryder!" says he, handin' out a brisk shoulder-pat. "Ah, Mr. Larkin! Mr. Busbee! Well, well! You too, Hyde? Hail, all of you, and the top of the morning!
The entire news of the world that mornin' he could boil down into one official statement: Elsa had said she'd have him! Hip, hip! Banzai! Elsa forever! He flashed that miniature of her and passed it around. He nudges Lawson T. Ryder playful in the short ribs, hammers Deacon Larkin on the back, and then groups himself, beamin' foolish, with one arm around old Busbee and the other around Mr. Hyde.
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