Page:The Redemption of Anthony (1911).djvu/122

 "I don't doubt it—so do you. And yet I never saw you look so sweet!"

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"Now you look like—you! Not the fashionable Mrs. Crompton, nor the clever Mrs. Crompton, but just Nan Crompton, the sweetest woman in the world."

"Don't! I feel very young and reckless at this moment."

"Good! Then put your hand in mine, dear woman, and say that you will make me happier than I ever dreamed of being."

"I can't—I simply cannot—marry a parson. I've too much sense of humor."

"I don't ask you to marry a parson—I ask you to marry me."

"Aren't you the same?"

"No, the parson is a type, and I am a man."

Just here a terrific crash of thunder shook the dog-house, and Mrs. Crompton's head was buried on The Parson's breast. Here it seems well to draw the curtain. Somewhat later Mrs. Martin and the rest of the