As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. You are one of the Immortals. Wood, however, was too much excited to attend to the caution. ‘Didn’t mean to say that. She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. . Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. “My God!” he said again. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her.
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