Your mother, for what it’s worth to you—for there’s nothing for you here, by God!—was the woman I chose for Nicholas. ’ Saling coughed. One point in her narrative stood out beyond all others. We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't. Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. She looked at the white ankle socks on her feet and was reminded simultaneously of her pajama outfit and the suitcase that still lay underneath the bed. ‘Kill him? Oh. He had the appearance of a man who has known no rest for many nights.
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