However, not a moment is to be lost. Indeed, I've heard him say that, but for his wife, he would shelter her under his own roof. Restraining with an effort his intense curiosity, he talked of general subjects only, trying his best to entertain her. And you’re as clean as fire. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances.
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