8. "Your name is Spurlock?" "It is. 9. They WERE, she realized, acutely beautiful things. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere. He laughed lightly. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. But when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. Homosexuals weren’t looked too kindly upon in their exclusive suburban neighborhood, not even dashing handsome ones.
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