” She laid her hand softly upon his. Did you know you’re very maternal? Damn, you’re more maternal than my Mom. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. E. Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. It was among artistic people.
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