She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. She leaves me almost without comparisons. He was still thickly clad in jeans. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. Again silence. Nice position. 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.
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