"How do you account for that?"
"I could not say, sir."
"I'm sorry weddings depress you, Ferris. Surely when two people love each other and mean to go on loving each other...."
"Marriage is not a process for prolonging the life of love. It merely mummifies its corpse."
"But, Ferris, if there were no marriages, what would become of posterity?"
"I see no necessity for posterity, sir."
"You disapprove of it?"
"Yes, sir."
George walked pensively out on to the drive in front of the house. He was conscious of a diminution of the exuberant happiness which had led him to engage the butler in conversation. He saw clearly now that, Ferris's conversation being what it was, a bridegroom who engaged him in it on his wedding-day was making a blunder. A suitable, even an ideal, companion for a funeral, Ferris seemed out of harmony when the joy-bells were ringing.
He looked out upon the pleasant garden with sobered gaze: and, looking, was aware of Sigsbee H. Waddington approaching. Sigsbee's manner was agitated. He conveyed the impression of having heard bad news or of having made a discovery which disconcerted him.