Page:MacGrath--The luck of the Irish.djvu/317

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CHAPTER XXIV

AND so they were married. No more romance, nothing but realities from now on; and some of these realities bitter and sad, and some of them touched with incomparable glory. No life moves forever on one level, no life is so drab that happiness does not pierce it somewhere, somehow.

Christmas, with a sky of faded blue and burning brass; dust, heat, enervation. Clouds came up quickly, there was the usual downpour of lukewarm rain; then more heat, more dust, more glare. To William it was an unbelievable Christmas. He saw not a single face in which the spirit of this day was manifest. … Snow blowing into his face with cold freshness; snow under his feet, sparkling on his coat, covering the trees in the park with fleecy mantles; cold, wind-driven snow; never had he been so homesick as on this, his wedding-day.

Two rings, a small diamond and a plain gold band, took all but eighteen dollars of his small store. But Ruth had a few hundred, and he could borrow from her until either they sent him his letter of credit or he went to Hong-Kong for it. So there was no financial worry in his mind. He knew that the diamond was a bit of sentimental

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