of Mrs.
Archer’s
face
suddenly
convulsed
with happy
sobs, the
low
benedictory
murmur of
the
Rector’s
voice, the
ordered
evolutions
of the
eight pink
bridesmaids
and the
eight
black
ushers:
all these
sights,
sounds and
sensations,
so
familiar
in
themselves,
so
unutterably
strange
and
meaningless
in his new
relation
to them,
were
confusedly
mingled in
his brain.
“My God,”
he
thought,
“have I
got the
ring?” –
and once
more he
