"This is the Reverend Gideon Voules," said Molly. "He's going to marry us."
"This," said Mrs. Waddington, turning to the clergyman and speaking in voice which seemed to George's sensitive ear to contain too strong a note of apology, "is the bridegroom."
The Reverend Gideon Voules looked at George with a dull and poached-egg-like eye. He did not seem to the latter to be a frightfully cherry sort of person: but, after all, when you're married, you're married, no matter how like a poached egg the presiding minister may look.
(from The Small Bachelor, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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