It was very curious to feel that he had lived with himself, in a condition of rather close , all these years without realizing that he was capable of emotions. Jerome didn’t feel at home with himself any more. No, to tell the truth he felt on terms of slight formality.  
There was, of course, no mirror in the supply closet, and, since he had never before faced the obligation of without the aid of a mirror, Jerome spent an anxious thought on the possibility of being unable to negotiate his . The absence of his own familiar looking glass reminded him, over again, of the fact that he had said good-bye, though so informally, to all that had gone to compose his erstwhile existence. Could he manage to reorganize his entire life in an instant? And how could he spend his days if not behind the counters of Oaks, Ferguson & Whitley’s? But then the more back-patting problem presented itself: How could they ever manage without him? Yes, this bore earmarks of a supreme emotion.
 
Carefully attaching the clip to the ends of his tie, he

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