He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. She felt her own body stir, ready for more. By rights I ought to have arrested her days ago. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. "It is past," said Jack, placing his finger on the trigger. He cannot. This world over here! Everything's upsidedown or back-end-to. Better get back now! You be careful. It was interesting to see how different and characteristic his mode of approach was to all sorts of questions that interested her, and it was amusing to discover this other side to the life of a Morningside Park inhabitant. F.
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