Standing beside him, her hand clasped firmly in his, Alice felt the somberness that had clouded her in the church dissipate and vanish. She felt giddy with happiness despite her new shoes, which pinched her feet dreadfully and made her long for the moment when she could sit down and surreptitiously slip them off. Overwhelmed by the open-handed charity of her friends and neighbors, Alice sneaked a glance at the buffet table. Everyone had brought dishes and platters of food. There were deviled eggs, sliced ham, potato salad, bowls of ripe summer fruit, plates of bratwurst, platters of sliced cheeses, apple strudel, pear tarts, and a magnificent, tiered cake from Romeo Cantoni's bakery. There was even champagne, unlabeled, shipped from somewhere in the City. Siegfried ate, and drank, and laughed, his hand frequently seeking hers for a quick squeeze. There were so many people to talk to, so many acquaintances to acknowledge, so much joy to share. It seemed only a moment, then it was time to cut the cake.
