Ransom walked in with the hat on his fist, playing with it a little, accepting more congratulations, allowing some slightly tipsy guest to prop the misshapen beaver on his head at a rakish angle. He left it there in what he modestly judged to be a masterful imitation of sporting good humor, and worked his way around the room toward Quin.Somehow—oddly enough—he tilted his head and the hat fell off as he reached the little group where Quin stood talking to Mr. Peale. Quin caught the headpiece just as Blythe glided up to take Ransom's arm."Damerell,” his sister said. “I hope you know you look ridiculous.""Thank you, Blythe. But I've just gotten married, you see.""I fear your new bride's personality is already rubbing off. Wherever did you get that disgusting soiled hat?""Do forgive me, Lady Blythe,” Mr. Peale said in a pained voice. “I'm afraid I gave it to him.""Mr. Peale, by the Powers!” Quin said. “I'm shocked, that I am."The reverend blushed, “It was not meant as a—a common jest, of course.
