It was Sunday, a bright day. She went to the discussion. It was about marriage.
[the debate]
...
"You may say that," she said, quietly.
He lifted up his hands as if in despair. The debate cooled down. Conversation stopped. People stirred in their chairs. They got up. They began to leave her. They would not act with imprudence or discourtesy. They simply chose to ignore her. They passed by, going up to the center, greeting each other with gentle smiles and phatic words. They acted as if she were not there.
She took out her laptop, and began to type into it.
"It was Sunday, a bright day," she typed.
