He almost pushed her from him. Her eyes never left his face.
"Can't you see me to my carriage?"
This, the obvious thing, had not occurred to him. He walked beside her. As they passed into the station, Archibald appeared on the platform, followed by a boy carrying a tea-basket.
"It is Mark," said Betty, as her husband joined them. They walked towards the carriage, the most amazing trio in that vast station. Mark repeated his reasons for not taking part in the wedding. Archibald looked confused.
"You have left our Church?"
He repeated it three times.
"Yes; yes—we can't go into reasons here and now."
"What are you going to do?"
"I am writing."
The guard began to slam the doors. He came up to the brothers, smiling, seeing the bride, feeling in his broad palm the tip of the bridegroom.