"Then that's settled. And at St. Miriam's?"
For some reason Celia has set her heart on St. Miriam's. Personally I have no feeling about it. St. Andrew's-by-the-Wardrobe or St. Bartholomew's-Without would suit me equally well.
"All right," I said, "St. Miriam's."
There, you might suppose, the matter would have ended; but no.
"Then you will see about it to-morrow?" said Celia persuasively.
I was appalled at the idea.
"Surely," I said, "this is for you, or your father, or—or somebody to arrange."
"Of course it's for the bridegroom," protested Celia.
"In theory, perhaps. But anyhow not the bridegroom personally. His best man ... or his solicitor ... or ... I mean, you're not suggesting that I myself—— Oh, well, if you insist. Still, I must say I don't see what's the good of having a best man and a solicitor if—— Oh, all right, Celia, I'll go to-morrow."
So I went. For half an hour I padded round St. Miriam's nervously, and then summoning up all my courage, I knocked my pipe out and entered.