Dressmakers -- Fiction; Love stories; Young women -- Fiction
Strange emotion shook Sally as well as her mother. But they were
different. A thoughtful pucker came between her brows, and she had a
smile that was almost contemptuous.
"Ma!" she repeated, as the sobs remained vehement. "Shut up, ma! Oh,
what an old image! Talk about a noise! Anybody'd think it was _you_ who
was getting married!"
She had recovered her own nerve. She could not see the future; but her
head was cool, and she stared over her mother's shoulder at the sunlight
bleaching the outer grime of the neighbouring roofs. In her thin
nightgown she looked like a child, and her face was so impish that she
seemed to regard her marriage as one more in a long series of good
jokes. Her eyes were wide open, and her lips smiling.
BOOK THREE: CONSEQUENCES
i
The Merricks--Sally and Bertram--went for their honeymoon to Penterby, a
little South of England town near the sea but not actually upon the
coast. The honeymoon was to be a short one, the barest weekend, and so
they could not go far from London; and for some reason Gaga could not
stand the sea itself. Strong air made him ill, and even sight of rolling
waves made him feel sick. Sally, still elated and not as yet very
confident or assertive, immediately agreed when he suggested this
country town; but she had no real notion of what was in store for her.
She was all half-amused trepidation. The scuffled marriage-ceremony,
after which the registrar's clerk hurried to call for her for the first
time by her new name, was fun to her. It meant nothing: "I, Sarah,
Margaret Minto, call on these present...." It was all a part of a game,
a rather exciting game; and Gaga was no more to her after the ceremony
than he had been before it. He was a tall agitated grey creature, very
tremulous and muffled in his speech, and nothing like a husband. What
_was_ a husband? How did one feel towards a husband? All Sally knew was
that her husband was a stranger. He was one man out of millions of men,
no more and no less than the others. The thought that she was binding
herself to him for life did not trouble her. It did not enter her head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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