To Harriet, then, that October afternoon was a future of endless lace and
chiffon, the joy of creation, triumph eclipsing triumph. But to Anna,
watching the ceremony with blurred eyes and ineffectual bluish lips, was
coming her hour. Sitting back in the pew, with her hands folded over her
prayer-book, she said a little prayer for her straight young daughter,
facing out from the altar with clear, unafraid eyes.
As Sidney and Max drew near the door, Joe Drummond, who had been standing
at the back of the church, turned quickly and went out. He stumbled,
rather, as if he could not see.