"
Smiling she led away her toothless old man. Marcella handed Louis the
marriage certificate, which he put in his pocket. Out in the street it
was quite dark.
"Phew, wasn't it an awful experience? Lord, we're married! Married! Do
you really believe it, darling? And I haven't given you a kiss yet. I
couldn't with those old dodderers about. Oh, Marcella, isn't it great?
And isn't it a lark? But if anyone had told me I'd have got married in a
tin tabernacle, slobbered over by a lot of Non-bally-conformists I'd
have had hysterics. We'll simply have to tell the Mater and Violet!
It'll be the joke of the century to them."
She drew a deep breath.
"Louis, can't we run right away into the Bush? I do wish we were at
home on Ben Grief in the wind--the thought of that great, big hotel
terrifies me. I feel sort of--like I used to feel when I went to church
with mother on Easter Sundays, when everything was cool and white and
smelt of lilies. Oh, Louis, I _do_ so love you!"
Suddenly he stood still and looked at her.
"Let's find a cab and get down to that bally boat for the baggage. Oh,
bother the baggage! My darling, I want you alone. You stood there so
quiet and still, looking just like a little girl being very, very good.
Oh, my dear, you're a damned sight too good for me. Lord, I'll feed
myself to the sharks in the harbour if ever I hurt you! What luck to
find you! What amazing, gorgeous luck! Me--the waster, the unwanted, the
do-nothing.
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