CHAPTER XI. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. ’ She smiled on the last words, adding, ‘Oh, I don’t blame you for trying. \" She said, bashful. , you know, fair and square. You know—I worship you. Miraculously, her schoolmates were so upswept in their own summer planning that they had no time to interrogate her. ’ ‘I find that difficult to believe,’ snapped the general, jerking to and fro as his agitation mounted. But, as you perceive, I brought it away with me.
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