The Devil Loves Me

Серия: Paul Pyre, книга 3

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The organ blared, piped, and pealed, coaxing the bride to come into the aisle.

Here comes the bride, shouted the organ, stand by her side.

The ladies craned their necks delicately toward the back of the church and resumed their conversations.

“I fry mine in lard...”

“He’s not half good enough for you, I said...”

“Henry, sit up straight. This isn’t a sermon!”

The gentlemen tugged at their collars and thought, thank God it’s not me.

In the vestry the two elegant young men fumbled with their ascot ties and brushed off their pearl-gray spats.

“Nora’s late,” said the bridegroom.

“Weddings are sad...”

“Maybe she’s changed her mind.”

“... and uncivilized. I’d like a drink.”

“A drink would be fine.”

“I wonder if the minister keeps a little something in case a lady faints.”

“Very likely,” said the bridegroom.

“Let’s find a lady who’ll faint.”

“Too much trouble. You faint.”

“Might spoil my pants.”

The society editor of the Courier studied the church decorations with a blasé eye.