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went back to The New Republic. “Shouldn’t we go up?”
That’s about all it would need, Joel thought, to have to bellow at us. He leaned towards her and put his hand on her arm. “Better not,” he said, “till we know what’s what. Too much to-do.”
“To much what?”
“To-do. Fuss. Too many people.”
“Oh. Perhaps. It does seem our place to, Joel.”
Rot! he said to himself. “Our place,” he said rather more loudly, “is to stay where she prefers us to be.” He began to realize that she had not meant our place in mere propriety. Goddamn it all, he thought, why can’t she be there! He touched her shoulder. “Try not to mind it, Catherine,” he said. “I asked Poll, and she said, better not. She said, there’s no use our getting all wrought up until we know.”
“Very sensible,” she said, dubiously.
“Damned sensible,” he said with conviction. “She’s just trying her best to hold herself together,” he explained.
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