“You’re Glorious!” said Miss Miniver in tones of rapture, holding a hand in each of hers and peering up into Ann Veronica’s face. In spite of the tumultuous joy which agitated him, the bridegroom could not prevent the intrusion of some saddening thoughts, as he reflected upon the melancholy scene which he had so recently witnessed in the same place. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say. "I shall be obliged to hang him to keep him company.
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