She could never love him. "And of course," he explained
to himself, "you hadn't oughta love a person without you expected
to marry them; you oughtn't never even touch her hand." Yet he
did want to touch hers. He suddenly threw his chin back, high and
firm, in defiance. He didn't care if he was wicked, he declared.
He wanted to shout to Istra across all the city: Let us be great lovers!
Let us be mad! Let us stride over the hilltops. Though that was not
at all the way he phrased it.
Then he bumped into a knot of people standing on the walk, and
came down from the hilltops in one swoop.
A crowd was collecting before Rothsey Hall, which bore the sign:
GLORY--GLORY--GLORY
SPECIAL SALVATION ARMY JUBILEE MEETING
EXPERIENCES OF ADJUTANT CRABBENTHWAITE IN AFRICA
He gaped at the sign. A Salvationist in the crowd, trim and
well set up, his red-ribboned Salvation Army cap at a jaunty
angle, said, "Won't you come in, brother?"
Mr. Wrenn meekly followed into the hall. Bill Wrenn was nowhere
in sight.
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