I  straigairs, got took it do it in front of  settled t. Or so I imagined until t morning or. Rat and carried it back to my room, acapitulation t did not lessen my resolve to put ly absolutely out of mylife. S;a crude exionist,quot; quot;a time er,quot; quot;an utter fakequot;:someone never to be spoken to again.

    And I didnt. Not for a long o Joe Bells, I . At one point, Madame Sappura and roller-skating ent ed a petition among tones otenants asking to join ly evicted: s;morallyobjectionablequot; and t;perpetrator of all-nig endangered ty and sanity of ; to sign, secretly I felt MadameSpanella o complain. But ition failed, and as April approacs y sounds, tini laug emanated from Apt. 2.

    It y to encounter suspicious specimens among etrary; but one day late t spring, ibule, I noticed a very provocative man examining ies stainedgray , and , a pale blue, oo loosely on o entionof ringing  rubbing afinger across ttering of her name.

    t evening, on my o supper, I saanding acrosstreet, leaning against a tree and staring up at erspeculations rusective? Or some under connected omato? tuation revived mytenderer feelings for  o interrupt our feud long enougo  to Seventy-ninttentionfocused on me. Presently,  turning my  ling. Not any ordinary tune, but tive,prairie melody imes played on ar: Dont  ravelin tures of tlingcontinued across Park Avenue and up Madison. Once, raffic ligo cc of tooped to pet a sleazyPomeranian. quot;ts a fine animal you got t; old trified drawl.

    y. Nevertook a seat rig ter. obacco and s.  ouc. Instead, ootudied me in thewall mirror facing us.

    quot;Excuse me,quot; I said, speaking to ;but ?quot;

    tion didnt embarrass o  asked.

    quot;Son,quot; ;I need a friend.quot;

    out a . It opieces; and so tle, cracked, blurred snaps ure, all grouped togetark of a plump blond little girl  the sun.

    quot;ts me,quot; ing at ;ts ; apped t;And t; ing a tos;

    I looked at quot;; again: and yes, no, an embryonic resemblance toing, fat-c t, I realized w be.

    quot;Youre ;

    ; ;

    ing toot;till she married me. Im her husband.

    Doc Goligor, animal man. Do some farming, too. Near tulip,texas. Son, w;

    It  real laug ook a ser and c;tter, son. Im a tired man.

    Ive been five years lookin for my  t letter from Fred,saying icket on t;

    quot;C;

    quot;t;  sed.  ture, ted girls and a pair of overalled boys. ell, ofcourse: t;But  be those children.

    t;

    quot;No; ;I didnt claim tural-bornc .  een,  kno mind. But you takeLulamae, sional s ness. quot;No me? Do youbelieve ;