Nevertheless there came a residuum of expostulations. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. Her anger parlayed with her confusion, as she realized that the new marriage was about as optional as the first one and her hunger was growing inside her like a weed. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. Part of her felt like laughing insanely at how badly she had been duped. “He means nothing!” She whispered loudly. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him.
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