You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. There, in a little tea and sweetstuff shop, she bought and consumed slowly and absent-mindedly the insufficient nourishment that is natural to her sex on such occasions. I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall. To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it. He embraced her, kissing her cheek, then her neck. ” “I had some unexpected business,” Courtlaw answered shortly.
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