"No matter how much I tell of myself, I shall always keep something back. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. “I wish he had,” she said. Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. I'll call it my wedding gift.
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