A victim of one of those mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. The elusive Jane tapped her on the shoulder after class. In the beginning it was a dictionary. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else. ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance.
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