"Yes," replied Minot fervently. "It is. But no matter. Tell me about your preparations for the wedding. I should like to enjoy the thrill of it—by proxy."
"How like a man—wants all the thrill and none of the bother. It's dreadfully hard staging a wedding, way down here a thousand miles from everything. But—my gown came last night from Paris. Can you imagine the thrill of that!"
"Only faintly."
"How stupid being a man must be."
"And how glorious being a girl, with man only an afterthought—even at wedding time."
"Poor Harrowby! He keeps in the lime-light fairly well, however." They walked along a moment in silence. "I've wondered," she said at length. "Why did you kidnap—Mr. Trimmer's—friend?"
"Because—"
"Yes?"—eagerly.
Minot looked at her, and something rose in his throat to choke him.
"I can't tell you," he said. "It is the fault of—the Master of the Show. I'm only the pawn—
