‘“How is it,” I went on, “that there is no illumination, no band of music?”
‘With a sigh he replied: “Is marriage then such a joyful occasion?”
‘I burst out into renewed laughter. “No, no,” said I, “this will never do. Who ever heard of a wedding without lights and music?”
‘I bothered my brother about it so much that he at once ordered all the trappings of a gay wedding.
‘All the time I kept on gaily talking of the bride, of what would happen, of what I would do when the bride came home. “And, doctor,” I asked, “will you still go on feeling pulses?” Ha! ha! ha! Though the inner workings of people's, especially men's, minds are not visible, still I can take my oath that these words were piercing the doctor's bosom like deadly darts.
‘The marriage was to be celebrated late at night. Before starting, the doctor and my brother were having a glass of wine together on the terrace, as was their daily habit. The moon had just risen.
‘I went up smiling, and said: “Have you forgotten your wedding, doctor? It is time to start.”
‘I must here tell you one little thing. I had meanwhile gone down to the dispensary and got a little powder, which at a convenient opportunity I had dropped unobserved into the doctor's glass.
‘The doctor, draining his glass at a gulp, in a voice thick with emotion, and with a look that pierced me to the heart, said: “Then I must go.”
‘The music struck up. I went into my room and dressed myself in my bridal-robes of silk and gold. I took out my jewellery and ornaments from the safe and put them all on; I put the red mark of wifehood on the parting in my hair. And then under the tree in the garden I prepared my bed.