“Do you know that boy very well, Shar?” Cathy Beck yelled in the general direction of the lavatory. In between naps she increasingly found herself gazing at him, his large nose, his eyes circled in silvery plum shadows, his thin lips parted as he slept baring a rim of perfect teeth. 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. "I didn't expect this from you," rejoined Thames, resolutely. " "And, if you want an additional inducement to do so, I can tell you there's no one —not even his mother—whom he loves so well as you.
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