"Where did you get it?" she asked with a look of surprise.
"I found it among Macro's treasures."
"It must be some dead woman's, then. I would sooner not. Can we not leave that out? Will it make any difference?"
"No, dear. It will make no difference to our being truly wed."
"Then please go on without it."
So they left the ring out and read on to the end together.
He closed the book and drew her to him as they knelt, and kissed her as his wife.
"Now," he said, lifting her up. "We will put on record the most wonderful thing that has ever happened on this island, and then we will go home and prepare the marriage-feast.... I wonder now if James Elwes, M.A., late of Brasenose College, Oxford, is aware of the high use to which his Prayer-book is being put,"—as he pointed to the name inscribed on the fly-leaf, and turned over to the blank on the other side.
"Do you think they know?"
"I do not see why not. But as we never knew him, nor he us, it is possible he is not present."