Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. He accepted this confession conditionally: that no young man had kissed her. Day by day she followed the spiritual and physical contest between this man and woman. Her efforts were vain. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. She would have just to keep the fifteen pounds until she could make it twenty. ” “I thought Mr.
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