I suppose that shocks one’s ideas. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. You say you have twenty-four hundred in your letter of credit. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. 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.
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