There was only one sound—the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow moved. Plain, wide-mouthed, freckled, and ugly, she was an instantly jealous creature, her saving grace that she took no pains to mask her extreme dislike 47 of petite, pretty girls. “Then why go out with him, Michelle? Why belabor yourself?” Lucy questioned. White. And empty. It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband.
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