Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply. Ennison paused by the little gate. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. Morningside Park was a suburb that had not altogether, as people say, come off. More often then not he refused to reveal specifics of his own past in Greece and Rome, choosing to relate fables and stories of an impersonal nature. His hand shook so violently that he dropped the handkerchief; and he let it lie on the floor because he dared not stoop.
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