“I should like you to come here,” she said. She fled. I wanted the magic of love. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. A phase of mental activity that men called courage: to summon at will this energy which barred the ingress of the long cold fingers of fear, which cleared the throat of stuffiness and kept the glance level and ever forward. The flat was apparently empty. She worried for Cathy, working double shifts at the nearby family restaurant to help make ends meet.
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