Эллери Куин - Halfway House

“Of course,” he said gently.

“Then I give it,” said Lucy, putting her arm about Andrea’s slim shoulders, “to someone who, I think, is going to be related to me very soon... Will you accept it, Andrea, as a gift from me and... Joe?”

“Oh, Lucy!” cried Andrea, and then she began to weep.

“That’s what I wanted to speak to you about, Judge,” said Bill hastily; his cheeks were fiery. “I mean, Lucy’s feeling that Andrea — you see, well, last week Andrea and I drove out one day to — well, sir,” he managed to blurt at last as he took something out of his pocket, “here’s the license. Will you please marry us?”

The Judge laughed. “I should be delighted to.”

“Trite, trite,” said Ellery gloomily. “Very unimaginative, Bill. That’s what always happens. The hero marries the heroine and they live happily ever after. Do you know what marriage means? It means mortgages and warming bottles at two o’clock in the morning and commuting and all sorts of dreadful things that the author wisely neglects to mention.”

“Nevertheless,” said Bill with a nervous grin, “I’d like you to be my best man, Ellery. Andrea, too!”

“Ah,” said Ellery. “Now that’s different.” He walked over to the leather sofa and stooped and raised Andrea’s tearful face and kissed her resoundingly. “There! Isn’t that the prerogative of best men? At least,” he chuckled, dabbing tenderly at his lips with a handkerchief, “I’ve had my reward!”