was
marrying them sounded a long way off. The Beggar Man's hand in hers was
the only real thing in life, and she clung to it with the desperate
feeling that without it she would collapse and fall off the edge of the
world.

She wore the same shabby costume in which she had gone each day to the
factory, and she had a queer sort of feeling that this was not a bit as
she had always imagined a wedding to be. There was no satin frock, no
coloured confetti, no wonderful music.

What would Peg think? In her heart Faith was a little afraid of what
her friend would think. The clasp of the Beggar Man's hand suddenly
relaxed about her own, and she looked up with scared eyes. He was
smiling.

"It's all over," he said. "We're married. You've just got to sign your
name."

Faith said "Oh!" She blinked her eyes as if she had been asleep.

She had always thought that directly you were married, you felt quite
different, but no wonderful metamorphosis had come about so far. She
felt just herself, save for a dull sort of nervous headache.

She signed her name on the line pointed out to her and stood aimlessly
holding the pen. The man who had married them was filling in a form and
the Beggar Man was watching him.

Faith glanced down at her left hand. A brand new gold ring shone on her
third finger. She spread her hand out and stared at it.

The registrar folded up his papers and shook hands with the Beggar Man.
Then he shook hands with Faith and wished her luck.

Faith said "Thank you." She thought he was very kind. She liked the way
he smiled.

Then the Beggar Man spoke to her.

"Well--are you ready?"

Faith started. She had been dreaming again.

"Quite ready," she said, and followed him outside to where a taxi was
waiting. Presently they were driving away together.

The Beggar Man sat beside her. After a moment he began to speak rapidly.

"We're going to have some lunch at my flat. I've got a flat in the West
End. I shall give it up now we're married, of course, but I thought it
would do for the present--just till I come back and we can look round."

"Isn't it rather early for lunch?" Faith asked, helplessly.

"Is it? Well, we can have a glass of wine and some sandwiches. I've got
such a little time. My train goes at twelve...." He looked down at her
with sudden fire in his eyes. "I wish I had not got to go!" he said,
vehemently.

"Do you?" said Faith nervously. She shrank a little from him. "You said
you would soo