She was unusually pale, and her eyes were brilliant. 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. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue.
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