Earl Derr Biggers

“ Why the deuce didn't you pay the duty on that necklace?"
"Dear boy! Was saving every cent I had for—you know what. Besides, I heard of such a clever scheme for slipping it in—"
"Never mind that! Mr. Huntley, this gentleman was to have been married on Tuesday. Can't you hold off until then?"
"Nothing doing," said Mr. Huntley firmly. "I got to get back to New York. He'll have to postpone his wedding. Ought to have thought of these things before he pulled off his little stunt."
"It's no use, Minot," said Harrowby hopelessly. "I've gone all over it with this chap. He won't listen to reason. ”

“ A look of pain came into Harrowby's thin face.
"Not come back," he said. "My dear sir—"
"That's what I said. I'm a plain man, Harrowby. A plain American. It doesn't seem to me that marrying into the British nobility is worth all the trouble it's costing us—"
"But really—"
"It may be, but it doesn't look that way to me. I prefer a simple wedding to a series of vaudeville acts. If you think I'm going to stand for the publicity of this latest affair, you're mistaken. I've talked matters over with Cynthia—the marriage is off—for good!" ”

“ The public has not been appreciative. If truth must be told—and bitter truth it is—the once beloved matinée idol has become too fat to hold his old admirers, and they have drifted steadily to other, slimmer gods. Mr. Giles' early retirement from the stage is rumored."
Minot threw down the paper. Poor old Jephson! First the rain on the dowager duchess, then an actor's expanding waist—and to-morrow the news that Harrowby's wedding was not to be. Why, it would ruin the man! ”