"The simple truth is," she said quietly, "that I might hold Palmer if I

cared--terribly. I don't. And I'm afraid he knows it. It's my pride

that's hurt, nothing else."

And thus did Christine Lorenz go down to her wedding.

Sidney stood for a moment, her eyes on the letter she held. Already, in her

new philosophy, she had learned many strange things. One of them was this:

that women like Grace Irving did not betray their lovers; that the code of

the underworld was "death to the squealer"; that one played the game, and

won or lost, and if he lost, took his medicine. If not Grace, then who?

Somebody else in the hospital who knew her story, of course. But who? And

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again--why?

Before going downstairs, Sidney placed the letter in a saucer and set fire

to it with a match. Some of the radiance had died out of her eyes.

The Street voted the wedding a great success. The alley, however, was

rather confused by certain things. For instance, it regarded the awning as

essentially for the carriage guests, and showed a tendency to duck in under

the side when no one was looking. Mrs. Rosenfeld absolutely refused to

take the usher's arm which was offered her, and said she guessed she was

able to walk up alone.

Johnny Rosenfeld came, as befitted his position, in a complete chauffeur's

outfit of leather cap and leggings, with the shield that was his State

license pinned over his heart.

The Street came decorously, albeit with a degree of uncertainty as to

supper. Should they put something on the stove before they left, in case

only ice cream and cake were served at the house? Or was it just as well to

trust to luck, and, if the Lorenz supper proved inadequate, to sit down to

a cold snack when they got home?

To K., sitting in the back of the church between Harriet and Anna, the

wedding was Sidney--Sidney only. He watched her first steps down the

aisle, saw her chin go up as she gained poise and confidence, watched the

swinging of her young figure in its gauzy white as she passed him and went

forward past the long rows of craning necks. Afterward he could not

remember the wedding party at all. The service for him was Sidney, rather

awed and very serious, beside the altar. It was Sidney who came down the

aisle to the triumphant strains of the wedding march, Sidney with Max

beside her!

On his right sat Harriet, having reached the first pinnacle of her new

career. The wedding gowns were successful. They were more than that--they

were triumphant. Sitting there, she cast comprehensive eyes over the

church, filled with potential brides.




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