His head turned sideways towards the noise, his brows scowling. They joined the rabble of aspiring James Deans in torn jeans and bomber jackets and girls with Clairol black hair smoking clove cigarettes. There was still in his heart that fierce anger which demands physical expression; but he had to consider Ruth in all phases. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. Sheppard, raising herself, and looking at him as if her life depended upon the answer.
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