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Henry, O., 1862-1910

"Whirligigs"


"Ah!" cried Lorison. "You are the man I want. I had a wife of you a
few hours ago. I would not trouble you, but I neglected to note how
it was done. Will you oblige me with the information whether the
business is beyond remedy?"
"Come inside," said the priest; "there are other lodgers in the
house, who might prefer sleep to even a gratified curiosity."
Lorison entered the room and took the chair offered him. The priest's
eyes looked a courteous interrogation.
"I must apologize again," said the young man, "for so soon intruding
upon you with my marital infelicities, but, as my wife has neglected
to furnish me with her address, I am deprived of the legitimate
recourse of a family row."
"I am quite a plain man," said Father Rogan, pleasantly; "but I do
not see how I am to ask you questions."
"Pardon my indirectness," said Lorison; "I will ask one. In this room
to-night you pronounced me to be a husband. You afterward spoke of
additional rites or performances that either should or could be
effected. I paid little attention to your words then, but I am hungry
to hear them repeated now. As matters stand, am I married past all
help?"
"You are as legally and as firmly bound," said the priest, "as though
it had been done in a cathedral, in the presence of thousands.


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