‘Her purpose, if you will believe me, is to get herself a dowry so that she may marry an Englishman. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers. You simply can’t. 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. The ladies were, as usual, very gaily dressed; and as usual, also, had resorted to art to heighten their attractions— From patches, justly placed, they borrow'd graces, And with vermilion lacquer'd o'er their faces. In her sitting-room I found Montague Hill. ’ ‘You see? Not to be trusted,’ Hilary uttered disgustedly.
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