Argosy, September 1955 — page 78: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

76 -C. S, FORESTER have involved to a certain extent betraying Margaret’s confidence, so I did not ask it. There might be another opportunity, or there might be a solution of the problem without asking that question. | So we pass to the occasion of the Jones wedding a couple of days later. Jones is a professor at the University too—Professor of Ancient Languages—and about as dry an old stick as you, might guess from that title. I don’t think I care for weddings in any event, and I looked forward to this one with some distaste. I was quite sure that this would be a wedding with punch instead of with champagne, and I don’t approve of punch for weddings. And for another thing, I was not too sure that the Jones girl wanted to get married—or, at least, that she was in love with the bridegroom. I really had qualms about it—perhaps they were ill-founded qualms, though. It is hard to believe that at the present day any girl would allow herself to drift into marriage with a man she did not love, but I was inclined to believe it about the Jones girl. I dressed for the function with an increasing feeling of distaste, which did not diminish as I went along to the church with Dorothy and from there to the Jones house. I had no sooner arrived there than some of my worst apprehensions were con- firmed, for a glance into the dining-room revealed the caterer’s manageress busy mixing the punch. She was pouring the con- tents of several bottles into the bowl—and quite half those bottles were ginger ale. I reconciled myself as well as I could to the prospect of a grisly afternoon. But for once I was pleasantly disappointed. ‘That wedding was quite an uproarious function. Things began to move as soon as the health of the happy pair had been drunk. Of course, the women were in tears off and on; the bride’s mother naturally wept a little, but old Jones went up to her and put his arm round her and started to cheer her up quite effectively. You would not have thought that Jones had a breath of human feeling about him, but it was quite apparent that he had; it was really touching to see him smiling down into Mrs. Jones’s eyes, and to see her smiling up at him in return. My attention was distracted by an urgently whispered conversation just behind me— I was not eavesdropping, but in the babble of conversation that filled the room those urgent whispers made themselves more plainly heard to my neighbouring ear than any normal bellow. It was the bride and groom who were whispering. “ Darling, I can’t wait! ”’ “Oh darling! ” comiclbooks.conn