“Call me Cathy, John. " "Not if it will hurt her. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. Sheppard. Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. The conceit of Howard Spurlock in imagining he knew what mental suffering was! But Enschede was right: Ruth must never know. ” “I understand,” he said, doggedly.
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