Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” He said. She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. Taber?" He wondered if this crystal being was interested in that blundering fool who had gone recklessly into the city. Here he found another strong door, making the fifth he had encountered.
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