After a few moments he said, under his breath:
"Do you realise that we are married, Jacqueline?"
"No. Do you?"
"I'm trying to comprehend it, but I can't seem to. How soft the breeze blows! It is already spring in Stuyvesant Square."
"The Square is lovely! They will be setting out hyacinths soon, I think." She shivered. "It's strange," she said, "but I feel rather cold. Am I horridly pale, Jim?"
"You are a trifle colourless—but even prettier than I ever saw you," he whispered, turning up the collar of her fur coat around her throat. "You haven't taken cold, have you?"
"No; it is—natural—I suppose. Miracles frighten one at first."
Their eyes met; she tried to smile. After a moment he said nervously:
"I sent out the announcements. The evening papers will have them."