I’m a married man. How very odd. They were back at Maltravers Road, after a very long day. Adela and himself. Man and wife. A wedded couple. A fact, but he could still barely believe it, or how it had come about. Wilson had offered to arrange a honeymoon on the Continent because such things were customary, but Adela had declined, insisting it wasn’t necessary. A decision leaving him both grateful and a little disappointed. Grateful, because he simply didn’t have the time. His work on the submarine plans for the War Office was at a critical state, with ministers and other functionaries anxious to see results in short order. But he was disappointed because the idea of traveling with Adela was strangely alluring. The more he saw of her, the more he had a yen to show her off, and the dining rooms of glamorous European restaurants, or the great opera houses or theaters on the Continent would make perfect settings for her.
