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. He forced her arm back, away, stretching it out to keep the weapon at bay. “What is going on between you two?” Lucy asked. Waving a white flag, naturally. ‘He lacked moral fibre, did Nicholas.
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