I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish. “I went to Anna’s rooms because I felt that I must see her. McClintock wrote me about you; but all I needed was the sight of your face as it was a moment gone. The ring's yours, and you're mine. The fatal shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf.
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