Zaidee again looked up; again taking the Colonel's breath away with eyes
that expressed not only the fullest perception of what he had SAID, but
of what he thought and had not said, and with an added subtle suggestion
of what he might have thought. "That's tellin'," she said, dropping her
long lashes again.
The Colonel laughed vacantly. Then feeling himself growing imbecile, he
forced an equally weak gravity. "Pardon me--I understand there are no
letters; may I know the way in which he formulated his declaration and
promises?"
"Hymn-books."
"I beg your pardon," said the mystified lawyer.
"Hymn-books--marked words in them with pencil--and passed 'em on to
me," repeated Zaidee. "Like 'love,' 'dear,' 'precious,' 'sweet,' and
'blessed,'" she added, accenting each word with a push of her parasol on
the carpet. "Sometimes a whole line outer Tate and Brady--and Solomon's
Song, you know, and sich."
"I believe," said the Colonel loftily, "that the--er--phrases of sacred
psalmody lend themselves to the language of the affections. But in
regard to the distinct promise of marriage--was there--er--no OTHER
expression?"
"Marriage Service in the prayer-book--lines and words outer that--all
marked," Zaidee replied.
The Colonel nodded naturally and approvingly. "Very good. Were others
cognizant of this? Were there any witnesses?"
"Of course not," said the girl. "Only me and him. It was generally at
church-time--or prayer-meeting. Once, in passing the plate, he slipped
one o' them peppermint lozenges with the letters stamped on it 'I love
you' for me to take."
The Colonel coughed slightly. "And you have the lozenge?"
"I ate it."
"Ah," said the Colonel. After a pause he added delicately, "But were
these attentions--er--confined to--er--sacred precincts? Did he meet you
elsewhere?"
"Useter pass our house on the road," returned the girl, dropping into
her monotonous recital, "and useter signal."
"Ah, signal?" repeated the Colonel approvingly.
"Yes! He'd say 'Keerow,' and I'd say 'Keeree.' Suthing like a bird, you
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