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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Mr. Bingle"

I love you both. You have
meant a great deal to me. There is nothing I would not do for you,
nothing I would not shield you from if it lay in my power to do so.
So, I ask you, my friends, to be married here in my house before--"
Emotion choked him. He had been standing near the window at the
beginning of his disjointed remarks. As they progressed, he approached
them with his hands extended.
The young couple grasped his hands and Flanders spoke.
"We can't do it, Mr. Bingle. It is out of the question. I'm sorry--
terribly sorry. You are a corker, sir. I--"
"For goodness' sake," began Mr. Bingle, imploringly.
"We would jump at the chance, Mr. Bingle, to be married here, if it
were not for one thing," went on Flanders, and then looked at Miss
Fairweather.
"And what in the world can that be?" cried Mr. Bingle.
"We were married two months ago, Mr. Bingle," said Mrs. Richard
Flanders guiltily.
It was some time before they could make him believe it. She revealed
her wedding ring--suspended about her neck--and then Mr.


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