“Please, stay a while longer. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. He had been back for two weeks during some pleasant weather in July. Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. His eyes closed. But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate. ” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house. You won’t have a man’s lips near you, but you’ll eat out of his hand fast enough.
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