Getting Married By George Bernard Shaw -

"Here I am," he sighed. "A victim of my own exhaustion. I have worked myself into a state of physical collapse, and you, Charlotte, are the only person with the efficiency to see that I am properly buried or properly fed. Since I am not yet ready for the former, I suppose we must proceed with the latter via this legal ritual."

He stood in the hallway of the West Strand Registry Office, tugging at his rough, woollen jacket. Beside him stood Charlotte Payne-Townshend, a woman of formidable intellect and even more formidable patience. She was dressed sensibly; George was dressed, as usual, like a hedge that had decided to take up socialist lecturing. Getting Married by George Bernard Shaw

"Well, Mr. Shaw? Do you feel like a changed man? A pillar of the establishment?" "Here I am," he sighed

Shaw regained his posture, his eyes sparking with their usual mischievous fire. "I feel," he declared, "that I have just committed a very popular mistake. However, as mistakes go, I find the company to be of a much higher caliber than I deserve. Now, shall we go home? I have a preface to write, and I suspect marriage will provide me with at least five thousand words on why it is a disaster for everyone else." Since I am not yet ready for the

As they stepped back out onto the street, the London fog swirling around them, Charlotte took his arm.

When it came time for the rings, Shaw fumbled. "A gold hoop," he muttered. "The smallest handcuff ever forged by man."