A good woman’s mind has angels with flaming swords at the portals to keep out fallen thoughts. A cup of lies. She hadn't measured up; she had been stupid; she hadn't known how to make love. And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. “Oh, theories! Being in love is a fact. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. ” He made a step toward her. Its shouting now did in some occult manner convey a protest that Mr. ” He was suddenly resentful. ” “I’ll wait, then. ” “I know. ” The lady in black satin looked at the pile of luggage outside and hesitated. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings.
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