Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. ’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away. The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again. ” “You do not understand me at all,” she declared. What had happened to it? She had broken it, certainly. The girl was pretty, and apparently a lady.
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