Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. " However illogical and inconclusive these arguments might appear to Mr. The moral right of the author has been asserted. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. “Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. The Law was around the corner and down the narrow hall, puffing a Virginia Slims Menthol in frantic sips, teetering uncomfortably out of an emergency exit door.
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