It was mid-June the morning we graduated, and I fainted in the huge hall for the Commencement （毕业典礼） from the heat. Afterwards Frani’s parents took several of us to lunch at the Silver Swan. My grandparents had not come for the occasion, but sent me a check for a trip to Europe — that was a graduation present, and a wedding present as well, he wrote. Yes, the decision of marriage had eventually been made. We had already had an interview with the curate （牧师助理）, and it was exactly one week after the Commencement and my twenty-first birthday when we “stood up” together in the chapel. John told me that I would never become a good actress. We had a one-night honeymoon at an inn in Briarcliff, and there all of a sudden I had an attack of panic. As we climbed into the big bed, I knew, too late, that I had done the wrong thing. To marry a man without loving him, which was what I had just done, not really perceiving it, was a wicked action, I saw. Stiff with remorse and terror, I lay under the thin blanket through a good part of the night.