You see to what it has brought you. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. How can you protect me? Moreover, it is stealing that you have done, and therefore—’ ‘Don’t tell me you expect me to arrest myself again. ” “He certainly did not follow you out,” Brendon answered. Sated, he rolled off her body and retired to his quarters. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. “I don’t know how to prove myself to you, John. Towards this spot Mrs.
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