This woman, contrary to his custom, he answered. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. ‘Don’t lose your temper again. D. He did not leave much of an 17 impression. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. Her stifled misery had betrayed her. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react.
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