He looked up at the flabby Mortie triumphantly. He was needed here to shelter Alice from these half-drunken people. Poor little Alice! She had never been half taught. He would get her away from them presently and bring her home and try to dissuade her from this sort of thing. He remembered their beautiful, intimate dinner and looked down at her again, her face turned in profile there against his shoulder. What did that remind him of? There had been another face quite recently, turned thus against his shoulder, closer than this, white and sweet and fragile in its beauty. Margaret! Involuntarily, he drew back just a fraction and looked at this beautiful painted face. Somehow it did not belong there. Somehow it gave him a start. What was it like? Those red lips, glaringly red under the bright light of the vestibule chandelier? Ah! Those girls on the train. Those girls who had advised him to go and get his hair cut! Those fresh, uncouth girls! How he disliked their memory. They had dogged his steps on the train, come through and tried to find him more than once.
What do You think about THE CHRISTMAS BRIDE (2012)?
