“It is no good playing a game. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. The fact itself is regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. Katy’s face was vapid and undistinguishable from a crowd, but pretty in an abstract sense, like the face of a baby doll. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. If a certain kink in your sense of honour will not permit you to go to her as a lover, go to her as a comrade. She decided not to ask him outright if he wished to make love to her. ‘Do not speak of him. To shore up a business that never had any foundation, he wanted me to lend him a hundred thousand; and for his sake as well as for mine I had to refuse.
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