“I can’t cry, because I’ve lost my hanky,” sighed Mrs. Ramsay. “I’m not at all sure that I ought to either. Does the bridegroom’s mother cry, or not? I forgot to ask Anthony.”

“’Bout time we pushed off, what?” John drawled. “Look out for the confetti.”

Hurried kisses followed. Elizabeth took Stephen’s hand and ran. As they emerged into the sunshine confetti showered above them. They got into the car, waved, called messages, and were gone.

Stephen began to brush the confetti from Elizabeth’s coat.

“That scoundrel Anthony’s tied a boot on the back of the car,” he said.

“Ah, I was afraid it had been forgotten!” John remarked, showing his relief. “Not at all a bad show, was it?”

“Don’t speak about it as though it were a musical comedy,” protested Stephen.

“I think it was rather like one,” Elizabeth reflected.

The drive through the streets to Victoria was soon over. At the station Stephen and Elizabeth found that, John having shouldered all responsibility, there was nothing to be done but to walk on to the platform and into the carriage which, by some unknown means, John had managed to reserve for them. There were five minutes to spare; they sat opposite each other, and John stood leaning in at the window, saying,

“Might let me have a line from Paris to say you arrived safely. Luggage is in the rear. Better put the tickets in your pocket-book, Stephen. Wish I’d brought the odd slipper. Might have hung it on the door.”

“Oh, thank goodness you didn’t bring it!” Elizabeth cried.

A paper-boy passed; John bought the Morning Post, the Sketch, the Bystander, the Sportsman, and Eve, and handed them to Elizabeth.

“In case you get bored with Stephen, Mrs. Ramsay.”

“Thank you very much, but I don’t think I shall,” she smiled.

“You never know,” he said. “Well, you’re off. Best of luck, an’ all that, what? Don’t forget to send me a post card.”

The train began to move. Stephen leaned out of the window.

“Righto. Thanks again, old chap, for all you’ve done. Couldn’t have got through without you!”

The train slid out of the station; Stephen drew his head in, and stood for a moment looking down at Elizabeth. Then he sat down beside her, and caught her against his heart.

“At last!” he said, and kissed her, not gently at all, but hard and fiercely, on her mouth. “Mine! Mine!”

Chapter Twelve