Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. “Shut up, you little faggot. I tell you, that girl would jump into the sea, rather. Come and have lunch with me. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. Oh, to face facts! Gods! what a world it might be if people faced facts! Understanding! Understanding! There is no other salvation. ” “Not for you?” “No. "Not so," replied Jack, throwing down the skreen. Later, she understood his reasons; and it had now become habit.
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