“Well,” he said at last slowly, “I’ll pay it. After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. She admired his backside as he fetched a blue towel from his bathroom. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. Gradually McClintock shifted the burden to Spurlock's shoulders and retired among his books and music rolls. ' He muttered it continually. ” “I thought Mr.
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