The pieces fell to the ground in a little white shower. "One of us has got to die," he panted. “Will he die?” she asked. Her aunt went out of the room with dignity and a rustle, and up-stairs to the fastness of her own room. If I told you the facts, I expect, since you are in love with me, you’d explain the whole business as being very fine and honorable for me—the Higher Morality, or something of that sort. The pursuit of pleasure, selfgratification, is an original instinct with her. “But, of course, she may have come from one of the other flats. The boy’s besotted.
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