“I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. ” “No shit. , like to forget all about it—even their names. " "By my soul, no," replied Jonathan, with affected sincerity.
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