was breaking over the silent town. A policeman stood on a corner.
“How soon can we get a marriage license?” I asked him.
“Office won’t be open till nine,” said he. “Three hours and more.”
“That’s a long time to wait,” I told him.
“I was that way once myself,” he smiled.
I bought a couple of morning papers and we strolled into Union Square. There were great head-lines concerning the double murder on Nob Hill. Mary Will caught a glimpse of them.
“It all seems a thousand years ago,” she said. “Let’s not read about it.”
“Certainly not. I bought the newspapers to sit on,” said I.
I spread them over a wet bench. They served the purpose excellently. We sat close; Mary Will’s lovely eyes were heavy with sleep. Gradually her head slipped down on my shoulder. The hat