He saw that his words were falling upon dull ears. I don’t care! I’m glad I did. There is worse to come. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. It was not for a week or a month. And I’m afraid. To-night they say he will be conscious.
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