She saw him very clearly under the
light of two candles that wavered a little in the draught.
He was staring into the mirror, absorbed apparently in what he saw
there. She cried his name and he seemed to start and turn towards
the door listening. Then the picture faded. She woke to find herself
sitting up in bed crying his name . . .
In the morning she drove this dream away from her, refusing to think
of it or listen to it, but somewhere far down in her soul something
trembled.
The wedding was over so quickly that she scarcely realised it. There
was the stuffy little church, very empty and dusty, with brass
plates on the wall. She could hear, in the street, rumblings of
carts and the rattle of wheels; somewhere a barrel-organ played. The
clergyman was a little man who smiled upon her kindly. When Paul put
the ring on her finger she started as though for a moment she awoke
from a dream. She was glad that he looked so clean and tidy. Grace
was wearing too grand a hat with black feathers. In the vestry Paul
kissed her, and then they walked down the aisle together. She saw
Katherine and Millie and Henry.
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