. A. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat. She was dropped off at 2:30 at Whitefield Park, a huge extravagantly lit field in the new part of town. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. It was time to get up. He's as savage and suspicious as the devil himself.
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