I was his wife. Suddenly she felt her wrist grasped by a strong hand. Had he been trying to get her attention before that day, or did he simply want his silly pencil returned? \"I'm John. ” “You gave it him well. She was perfectly aware that the boy had gotten some sort of bug in his craw over her despite her sloppy, strange appearance. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. She became eager to explain herself, to show herself in the right light. I really must leave you now. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. . .
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