Beatrice kissed Jim on the forehead and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Tonight has been divine,” she remarked. “Everyone whom I wanted to see showed up and enjoyed themselves to the very limits of good sense. I hope that the ceremony and the banquet are just as wonderful.”
“Yeah,” said the titan, laconically.
She looked up at his face, which was turned away from her and darkened by shadow. Presently, he took her right hand in one of his huge carpenter paws and gently pressed the other on top, as if he were making a sandwich with far more bread than meat.
“I think we should leave soon,” suggested Beatrice. “It is fine for guests to come to our wedding tired and bedraggled, but we must be well rested. My father rented a rolling daguerreotype saloon for the banquet.”
Preoccupied,
