She backed away from him. I understand. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. “Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. Old Newgate. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. org Section 4. She felt she had to go on. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. " Ten minutes later, the doctor, having marshalled all his facts chronologically, began his tale.
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