You speak as one injured—as though I had been the one to take your name—as though you had been the one to make sacrifices. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. Sheila knew that the Eat & Shop on the corner of 53rd and Oleson was a flimsy front for an all-in-the-family whorehouse. S. ‘One of they Frenchies, that’s what I say—if it ain’t a ghost. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. “Why destroy me, child? There are so many secrets I 231 could tell you. The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed.
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