Coldly she spoke, in a distinctly accented voice. He was not able to recognize, as the doctor did, that she was only a natural woman. They joined the rabble of aspiring James Deans in torn jeans and bomber jackets and girls with Clairol black hair smoking clove cigarettes. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. "Neither man nor woman shall apply that term to me. Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. I know all about it. . Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor.
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