After the usual laconic greetings, he drew him on one side. 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. ‘Gerald Alderley, I don’t know what you deserve. It’s that father of yours you take after, no question. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. ” Pause. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room.
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