My, um, my curfew. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. The agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her gaze.
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