Weyl drained the last of his pop and tossed the bottle away.
"I used to think they were ... they all were, Bruce. That was when I was as young in years, as I try to be young in heart now. But the more couples I marry, the stronger is my conviction that God isn't a party to all those transactions, not by a long sight!
"If my bishop were to hear me say that, he'd have me up for a lecture, because he is bothered with a lot of traditions and precedent, but many men are calling on Him to bless the unions of young men and women when He only refuses to answer. Men don't know; somehow they can't see that God turns his face from marriage at times; they keep on thinking that all that is necessary is to have some ordained minister warn society to keep hands off, that it is the Father's business ... when it is not, when love, when God, isn't there."
"How are young goin' to tell when He's missin' from those present?"
Weyl shrugged his shoulders.
"The individuals, the parties concerned, are the only ones who know that."
"When they do know, when they don't give up even then? What are you goin' to do 'bout that?"
The other man shook his head sadly.
"There are many things that you and I—that society—must do, Bruce, my son. It's up to us to change our attitude, to change our way of looking at human relations, to pull off the bandages that are blinding our eyes and see the true God. Other things besides marriage demand that unerring sight, too....'
"But what I'm gettin' at," broke in the other, pulling him back to the question of matrimony, "is, what are you goin' to do, when you know God ain't ridin' with a couple, when it's a sin for 'em to be together, but when th' man holds to his wife like I'd hold to a cow with my brand on her, an' when th' woman—maybe—hangs to him 'cause she thinks th' Lord has had somethin' to do with it."