They found out Cris had some sort of criminal past, more child abuse stuff of course. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. See paragraph 1. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. "Well, well; look who's here!" cried Spurlock. The two young fools laughed until they cried. But if he's in bed, how the devil is he going with me, supposing I decide to hire him? The mudhook comes up to-morrow night.
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