He got up. I’ve got no feminine class feeling. She worried for Cathy, working double shifts at the nearby family restaurant to help make ends meet. The next few hours will tell. ’ ‘You’re going?’ asked his friend, and the note of relief was marked. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom.
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