She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. Anyhow he confessed that he was a fraud. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table. “But Julian, we don’t even know each other!” She exclaimed.
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