Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. Section 2. “The rest,” she said, holding tightly to his hands, “is the most important of all. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. “For your own sake, let me beg of you not to stay for a moment. So it is that I do not do these things.
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