“I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. “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. ’ But the nun’s eyes had caught Gerald behind and she took instant umbrage. So I dare say I was christened Jack. But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. But she veiled her feelings.
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