But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation. He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life. “I am not dependent upon any one. Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside. \" She thought of her kill. ’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. But seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it.
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