Their conversation degenerated again and again
into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and
when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. You
can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion
in me—of that sort—worth a rap. "
"Make your choice," said Jonathan. . Then, naturally, I went on
talking. There isn’t a husband
breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and
prayed God that the bullet might go straight. 62
<8>
A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER
The weekend began for her with that luxury of all
luxuries, sleep. They're apt to be
surly to strangers, but it soon wears off. F.
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