‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death. “I say, Vee. He proposed, he wanted to possess her! He loved her. “Well anyhow—I don’t see the force of your objection, you know. He went over his interview with her again, their conversation at dinner-time. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine.
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