Osborn was pleased with his reflection in the glass. For his wedding he had bought his first morning-coat and silk hat. He had been as excited as a girl. He had a new dress-suit, too, and a dinner-jacket from the best tailor in town, ready packed for travelling. He had been finicking over his coloured shirts, handkerchiefs, and socks; a set of mauve, a set of blue, a set of grey; the brown set with the striped shirt; they were all awf'ly smart. Marie was so dainty, she liked a man to be smart, too. All he wanted was to please her. Rokeby came early, as quiet and lacklustre as ever. He sat down in the obvious lodging-house bedroom, lighted a cigarette and looked at Osborn without a smile. He prepared himself to be bored and amazed; weddings, tiresome as they were, always amazed him. And he was prepared, too, for a settled insanity in Osborn until-- "I wonder how long _he'll_ be?" Rokeby thought. "I've finished packing," said Osborn, clapping his old brushes together; the new ones lay among the new suits. "It's time we started, almost, isn't it?" "Not by an hour," Rokeby answered, consulting a wrist watch. "Have you breakfasted?" "Not yet." "You'd better, hadn't you?" Osborn was concerned with the set of the new coat over his fine shoulders. "Breakfast was on the table when I came through," added Rokeby. "Was it?" replied Osborn absently. Rokeby took his friend's arm, piloted him with patient firmness into the sitting-room, and pulled out a chair. Osborn ate and drank spasmodically. Between the spasms he hummed under his breath: "And--when--I--tell--them, And I'm certainly going to tell them, That I'm the man whose wife you're one day going to be, They'll never believe me--" Rokeby smoked several cigarettes. "How long'll it take us to get to the church?" Osborn asked presently, with his eye on the clock. "Ten minutes, about. We'll walk." "Desmond, I say, I wouldn't like to be late." "I'll look after that. I've escorted a good many fellows to the tumbril." "Desmond, that nonsense of yours gets boring." "All right! Sorry." "Let's start," said Osborn. So they started on their short walk. The pale gold sun of a splendid crisp morning hailed them and the streets were bright. Already, though they arrived early at the church, several pews were full of whispering guests who turned and looked and smiled, with nods that beckoned, at the two young men. "What'll we do?" Osborn whispered. "Hide," said Rokeby.