I had a sort of idea,” he went on, “that you were starting life all over again, and it seemed awfully plucky. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. Now she was to be married to him and it horrified her. He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. They had cried a little, both. ‘Difficult, I grant you. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. " "Mrs. Maggot. He rather liked the "sir"; it signified both gratefulness and the chastened spirit.
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