” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. But Gosse began to drag her towards the door. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. The terrific mental tension of the past few months —that had held his bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation—became as a dream; and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air. “Call me Cathy, John.
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