If
you buy last week's evening papers--do you remember the day I was in
town?'--I nod--'you will see a sketch of me in that day's; someone,
perhaps he, must have given it; it was from an old photograph. I bought
one at Victoria as I came out; it is funny (with an hysterical laugh) to
buy a caricature of one's own poor face at a news-stall. Yet in spite of
that I have felt glad. The point for you is that I made no defence to
the world, and (with a lifting of her head) I will make no apology, no
explanation, no denial to you, now nor ever. I am very desolate and your
attention came very warm to me, but I don't love you. Perhaps I could
learn to (with a rush of colour), for what you have said tonight, and it
is because of that I tell you to weigh what this means. Later, when your
care for me will grow into habit, you may chafe at my past. It is from
that I would save you.'
I hold out my hands and she comes and puts them aside and takes me by
the beard and turns up my face and scans it earnestly. She must have
been deceived a good deal. I let her do as she pleases, it is the wisest
way with women, and it is good to have her touch me in that way.
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