"So do you, Ursula Evangelina Flint," says the weedy little man officiating the wedding ceremony, "take Phineas Black to be your husband, to love until magic is naught?"
"I do so in love," says Ursula.
"And do you, Phineas Nigellus Black, take Ursula Flint to be your wife, to love until magic is naught?"
"I do so in love."
Phineas kisses his fiancée, and the crowded hall applauds. A happy grin rises, unbidden, upon his face, and for once he doesn't resist it, doesn't care if he's being proper or not, because he loves the beautiful woman in front of him.
He pretends not to see that her own smile is nothing more than plaster and paint.