At least she touched first, but I had my hand on her shoulder.' 'What's this ?' asked Gerald.
Birkin told him about the race of the bride and the bridegroom.
'H'm!' said Gerald, in disapproval.

'What made you late then ?' 'Lupton would talk about the immortality of the soul,' said Birkin, 'and then he hadn't got a button-hook.' 'Oh God!' cried Marshall.

'The immortality of the soul on your wedding day! Hadn't you got anything better to occupy your mind ?' 'What's wrong with it ?' asked the bridegroom, a clean-shaven naval man, flushing sensitively.
'Sounds as if you were going to be executed instead of married.

THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL!' repeated the brother-in-law, with most killing emphasis.
But he fell quite flat.
'And what did you decide ?' asked Gerald, at once pricking up his ears at the thought of a metaphysical discussion.
'You don't want a soul today, my boy,' said Marshall.

'It'd be in your road.' 'Christ! Marshall, go and talk to somebody else,' cried Gerald, with sudden impatience.
'By God, I'm willing,' said Marshall, in a temper.