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Show -121- was, had come over him. He wanted to throw his arms about her and pull her body to his. The temptation had lasted only a moment? but it had left him shaken and a little afraid. The rain had stopped by the time the Professor had finished his second martini. He got up from the couch and walked outside onto the patio, the dog following, curious and hopeful to be fed. The clouds had broken, and a few stars flickered directly overhead. It was warm for November, and he took a few deep breaths of the washed air. Looking back through the wide windows, the empty lighted room looked like a stage setting. Usually this brief routine brought him great pleasure. Tonight he felt only frustration and depression. Damn tomorrow's meeting! To hell with the frail flesh, his> own as well as his slster-in-laws, that gave way like the worn insides of a motor car! He hadn't done half the things he had dreamed of accomplishing, and events conspired against his doing anything more. All right! Damn all his striving! Damn ambition! Damn As his mind sought for something else to damn, he suddenly caught sight of his image in the window glass. He had his arm upraised in a gesture of bombast; like some third-rate Macbeth, and the sight struck him as comic. Really, he told himself; it was only his empty stomach. Get food on it, then listen to the news (there might be something about today's events at the University), then find something light and witty (only it would probably be only vapid and silly), |