“Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. Goopes disconcerted the Alderman a little by abruptly challenging the roguish-looking young man in the orange tie (who, it seemed, was the assistant editor of New Ideas) upon a critique of Nietzsche and Tolstoy that had appeared in his paper, in which doubts had been cast upon the perfect sincerity of the latter. On this side of the canal she has no place to go. “Ever yours, “ANNABEL. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. " When Spurlock had finished the tale, touched here and there by his own imagination, McClintock made a negative sign. "I have baffled you.
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