Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. ’ She sighed. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. I suppose I believe in God. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to. co. Gerald exchanged a puzzled glance with his friend. She had told Emile. ” “I say,” she reflected, “you ARE rather the master, you know. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. After the dance, they went to a party. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering.
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