“You needn’t be anxious about that! I shall contrive to live. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. I do not say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of this Wastrel. " "Wear that to-night, then. And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect.
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