“She doesn’t know. "Bring him out, Quilt. Manning,” she said, “I warned you not to idealize me. He hung vaguely for a moment as she passed. I spoke a thought aloud. His legs were fine and strong, he told her that he had been a warrior in ancient times, to which she snorted in disgust. The main idea now is of the future. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. On Tuesday night, she was rather better, and I had left her for a short time, as I thought, asleep on the sofa in the little parlour of which she is so fond —" "Well," exclaimed Jack. It's too hard. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. I can’t even make myself care. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. This time, there was no doubt, she did not sleep.
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