‘How did you guess?’ ‘I guessed as soon as you said this was your house. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. “Much better. The Supper at Mr. Jack is registered in the Black Book. Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. When I realized that she was a liar and a mean bitch I broke it off with her for good. She had resisted as long as she could; then she had stolen over.
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