didn't. That's so. They don't in that book of mine. But it was legal," he hastened to assure her. "Mr. Barton told me it was just dead-sure legal, all right."
"Oh, yes. I supposed so," Reba replied. "Only most married couples I know, both wear wedding-rings."
"Oh, do they?"
"I wanted that you and I should be like other married people, as near as we could," she persevered, opening her bag and fumbling in its depths. "Of course," she went on, "it may not fit. I had to guess about the size, but anyhow"
"Did you buy a ring for me?"
"Oh, it isn't much," Reba belittled, and she stretched out her hand toward him. There was a tiny little white package lying in her palm.
Nathan took the package, placed it on his knees hugged tremblingly together, produced a handkerchief, and wiped his hands; then with what fingers he possessed, proceeded to untie the red string around it—or at least to try to.
"I'll do it," offered Reba.
"Oh, thanks," he mumbled, perspiration standing out in beads upon his brow.
"It's just a plain gold wedding-ring," she explained, when, her fingers having quickly loosened the string, she lifted the cover and passed back the box with the band of gold shining inside.
He gazed down upon it in silence for a second or two.
"But I haven't got any wedding-ring finger," he murmured at last. "That Chinaman chap"
