“No, the only person I told before tonight was my mother and father. ” “It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship between you and me. “She must go her own way. Then for a time she sat very still. “You will have some tea?” she asked. A-L-I-V-A—Aliva—T-R-EN—Trencher that's it. ‘En effet, it is for this that I was enquiring of this man if he has pen and paper. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. See what your misconduct has deprived you of —see what you might have been. ” “Why did you keep her all of these years? What good can it do?” “She created me, Lucia. "What's the matter?" he cried. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON.
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