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Nobody ever called me John, that I recollect. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. ’ ‘But she must have known I’d longed to hear of you.
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