“I think that it is only an idea. ‘How she pouted, and tried to make out that she had been imposed upon. He buys his own clothes, chooses his own company, makes his own way of living. She drew her naked arms around herself. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. With Bess's assistance he then climbed up to the window, which, as has just been stated, was secured by iron bars of great thickness crossed by a stout beam of oak. Perhaps it was loneliness. So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed.
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