Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. I hear the sound of his horse's feet in the yard. He pressed his lips to her with a much greater force than she had anticipated. She was suddenly very aware of the room, the television still blaring, and the chill in the air. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. A scene now ensued, highly characteristic of the age, and the occasion. It is better to face the truth. She had agonized over it for weeks.
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