“Not funny--just happy.” Quincy took forcible possession of her half-resisting hand and slipped a diamond solitaire on the proper finger. “Why, what are you doing? Isn't it a beauty? Is this the great Sawyer diamond? Whose is it?” “It's yours. It is an engagement ring. It's the first step towards keeping my promise to Mr. Cass, and he's tenacious, you know. I told you all about it when I called this afternoon. So, please don't say 'this is so sudden.'” “Are you crazy, Quincy?” “No, sane. Delightfully so. I told Mr. Cass I couldn't marry you until to-day. I got the license this noon.” They were passing through a dimly-lighted street, but, occasionally, the street lamps threw flashes across two earnest faces. She endeavoured to remove the ring. “Mary,” said Quincy, “if you allow the ring to remain, I shall be a very happy man, dear,--for I love you. I have loved you ever since the day that I thrashed Bob Wood, and when I lay exhausted, you looked down at me with those beautiful blue eyes and said 'all for me!' I am all for you,--are you for me?” He put his arm about her and drew her towards him; their lips met. A bright light shone in the auto windows--but they were sitting erect--they even looked primly. “It is a long ride,” she ventured. “Too short,” he replied, “and yet, I wish we were there.” Again she spoke: “This is a most unprecedented affair. Can it be real, or are we actors?” “We are detectives, and they always do unexpected and unprecedented things.” “What will your father say--you a multimillionaire and I a poor girl who works for a living?” “My mother was poor and blind when my father married her.” “Yes, I know; but she wrote a book and became famous.” “You're a 'wonder' now, and you will become famous.” “What will your friends say?” “If they wish to remain my friends they will either say nothing, or congratulate me. How shall we be married--in church? I'll spend a hundred thousand on our wedding, if you say so.” “No. As little publicity as possible. Use the money to help those poor creatures who are sick with the disease called crime; that is the symptom. The cause is often bad environment, and the poverty which prevents improvement.” “What a philosopher you are. That simple ceremony suits me exactly, Mary. What a sweet name you have. Why not have Mr. Dysart perform the ceremony? We'll be married with a ring.” Mary laughed: “Where will you get yours?” “Detectives are always prepared for emergencies. I bought them this noon, after I procured the license. They seemed to go together.” “Well, Quincy, I think you are the most presumptuous mortal in existence. How dared you do such a thing--so many things, I mean?” “Was not the prize worth even more of an endeavour? I have always thought _Young Lochinvar_ was a model lover. But here we are.”