She threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire. She descended down the stairs of the house, sidestepping the refuse from bingedrinking teenagers that was strewn everywhere. He stood on the top step for a moment, lost in deep thought. Brown had admitted to the orchestra that he had never seen a better dress 247 rehearsal in the twenty-three years he had been teaching at Lincoln. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. “Well?” she said. After an hour of waiting, she slammed her bedroom door and he returned to his basement. ’ ‘Well, sir? Who is “she”? Not my granddaughter, I take it. The walls were pristine white and unmarked except for two sconces and a rather colorless Monet poster that had been framed in an expensive oak surround. ‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done. He declined supper, but took wine. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side.
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