Gerald lost his head. “Okay. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. About many of these houses hung a mysterious taint as of something weakly and commonly and dustily evil; the women who negotiated the rooms looked out through a friendly manner as though it was a mask, with hard, defiant eyes. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object.
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