” He returned to and developed that idea. “Oh, dammit!” he remarked, “dammit!” with great bitterness as he faced it. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. I can't bear it. “Maybe I should have stayed home. And her kind of love forgives everything and anything but infidelity.
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