Going to bed, worn out with the day, rising in the morning
ready to plunge in over one's ears. It is the only real life there is.
How do people endure a drifting through the days, with never anything
to do and never worn enough to sleep?"
"I don't know," said Carol promptly. "They aren't alive, that's sure.
But let's go to bed. David, please get off that floor and stop
coughing."
David obediently got up, lightly dusting his trousers as he did so.
Then he lifted his arms high and breathed deeply. "Anyhow it is better
to be tired than lazy, isn't it?"
CHAPTER VIII
REACTION
"Will you have this woman?"
David's clear, low voice sounded over the little church, and the bride
lifted confident, trusting eyes to his face. The people in the pews
leaned forward. They had glanced approvingly at the slender, dark-eyed
girl in her bridal white, but now every eye was centered on the
minister. The hand in which he held the Book was white, blue veined,
the fingers long and thin. His eyes were nervously bright, with faint
circles beneath them.
David looked sick.
So the glowing, sweet faced bride was neglected and the groom received
scant attention. The minister cleared his throat slightly, and the
service went smoothly on to the end.
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