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Henry said he did have three freight loads of furs to go on to Denver next week. He was surprised it was me he was doing business with and had to hear the tale of the poker game. The preacher came in and sat where I had, waiting to start the ceremony. He was older than I expected. Not too clean and pretty rough looking. Jack informed me that in the past he had carried a gun and hired it out. When he had killed someone by accident, he found the Lord and took up preaching.There was a bustle at the door and the two women who roomed at the house came out followed by Berta. Berta only had eyes for me as she came toward me. I took her hand and we swung to face the crowd. The preacher began by saying a prayer. It was just of a few words and then he went into the traditional ceremony. Both of us stumbled over the words, us being naturally nervous. Seven minutes later, I was kissing my wife and we were taking congratulations and best wishes for a long and happy marriage.There were nearly. It was worse than the Haggard. Alice seemed to pick article topics the way I'd pick canapes at a cocktail party: whatever looks OK, without regard for content.Wilde and Beerbohm were linked by a chain of structuralism laced with dime-store psychoanalysis. The writing was better, though. I had to admit that.I returned to looking out of the window. For the first time in two days I thought about Lt. Billings. He'd said he be "on" today -- Sunday. Well, probably his day off yesterday wasn't as lack-luster as mine. I looked at my watch. Already two! I'd just glance at the other two pieces and catch the bus in an hour. By then the drugstore ought to have The New York Times and I'd have a few hours with it before Ann and Hilda returned -- over-exhausted and semi-hysterical from a day at the amusement park.It turned out that A.E. Coppard was a British short story writer. His first book appeared in 1921 and contained twelve stories. The second edition, the next year, contained nine more..
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