"Is it?" said Turquand. "Haven't had the experience. Hope Mrs. Kent will like me--they never do in fiction. You ... you might tell her I'm not a bad sort of a damned fool, will you? And--er--I want to say, don't have the funks about asking me to your house once in a way, old chap, when I shan't be a nuisance; take my oath I'll never shock your wife, Humphrey ... too fond of you.... Be as careful as--as you can, I give you my word." His teeth closed round his pipe tightly. Neither man looked at the other; Humphrey put out his hand without speaking, and Turquand gripped it. There was a silence again. Both stared at the dead ashes. The clock of St. Giles-in-the-Fields tolled twelve, and neither commented on it, though each reflected that it was now the marriage morning. "Strikes me we were nearly making bally asses of ourselves," said Turquand at last, in a shaky voice. "Finish your whisky, and let's to bed!" CHAPTER VII As the wheels began to revolve, he looked at the girl with thanksgiving. Perhaps the top feeling in the tangle of his consciousness was relief that the worry and publicity of the day were over. They were married. For good or for ill--for always--whether things went well or went badly with him, she was his wife now! He realised the fact much more clearly here in the train than he had done at the altar; indeed, at the altar he had realised little but the awkwardness of his attitude, and that Cynthia was very nervous. And he was glad; but, knowing that he was glad, he wondered vaguely why he did not feel more exhilarated. They were alone in the compartment, and he took her hand and spoke to her. She answered by an obvious effort, and both sat gazing from the window over the flying fields. She thought of her home, and that "everything was very strange," and that she would have liked to cry "properly," without having Humphrey's eyes upon her. Kent wondered whether she would like to cry while he affected to be unaware of it behind a paper, or whether she would imagine he wanted to read and consider him unfeeling. He thought that a wedding-day was a very exhausting experience for a girl, and that her evident desire to avoid conversation was fortunate, since, to save his soul, he could not think of anything to say that wasn't stupid. He thought, also, though his palate did not crave tobacco, that a cigar would have helped him tremendously, and that it was really extraordinary to reflect that he and "Cynthia Walford" were man and wife.