‘So now we come to it. Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. Unless he has dealings with the devil, he could never have done this alone. Perhaps you’ve heard—?’ Well, you know, he had. Spurling had retired for the night. In an instant the expectant calm of Westminster was ended, and the very Speaker in the chair blenched at the sound of the policemen’s whistles. “This is my way back to my side of the Park,” she said.
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