Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. For fifteen years!—so long as I can remember! All I wanted was a little love, a caress now and then. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. “How would you prevent it?” she asked. But what did he know beyond these facts? Nothing, clearly. I know London better than you, and I have had to earn my own living.
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