She touched it, and her gaze lifted. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. She described the Goopes and the Fabians to him, and gave him a sketch of her landlady; and he talked in the most liberal and entertaining way of a modern young woman’s outlook. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. I do not know. But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends. ‘You usually do,’ he said lightly.
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