There was a second co-respondent. “Look, dear,” she said presently, “you can put the ten on the Jack. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. ” “All these things,” he muttered bitterly, “this desperate resolve to take your life into your own hands, your unnatural craving for independence, would never trouble you for a moment—if you really cared. “Sure, but it’s not like you’re married, you know.
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