" "If you stir, I'll call him!" rejoined Winifred. 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. She was like an angel with one wing. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. Men have seen to that. There were no mourners.
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