I wasn’t. He was way out of her league and it was downright odd that he had obliged himself to talk to her, let alone walk her home. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. ’ ‘And now we know also who is the prétendant, Mademoiselle Charvill. I’ve got imagination. He winced from the wasp-like sting.
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