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Updated: August 24, 2024
Funny, ain't it, that all these swells have to have a plain-clothes man at weddings so the people what come to 'em won't take any of the presents? That's Mr. Crimm's chief business nowadays, looking out for high-class crooks. He says you ain't as strong-colored as some the ladies he sees up-town, but he never did see a face with more sense and soul in it than what yours has got.
And you won't mind if I ask Mr. Crimm's advice?" I seemed pushing the girl I'd heard talking to Mrs. Mundy behind me. "He hasn't been able to find Etta Blake yet. Do you suppose her disappearance could have any connection with Harrie's? It may be he really loves her." Selwyn turned away. "Love is hardly a term to be used in connection with an acquaintanceship such as theirs.
"It's very cold," she said. "Why don't you wear your fur coat?" "I like this one better. It's warm and not so heavy." "Your fur coat is the only one in Scarborough Square. A sure-enough fur one, I mean. There're plenty of imitations. Mrs. Crimm's got an imitation. You look awful grand in that fur coat look like a princess person.
Crimm says he thinks girls who dress like Roberta Wicks ought to be run in, but there ain't any law which lets him do it. Mr. Crimm's going to a big wedding to-night. Did you know it?" I shook my head. In my mouth were the pins with which my veil was to be fastened. Hands on my hat, I straightened the latter before putting on the veil. "Well, he is.
Crimm's husband for thirty years and has his first drink to take. As I played the opening notes of "Molly, My Darling, There's No One Like You," Mr. Crimm took his place by the piano.
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