I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. The end of the world seemed at hand. She had to explain about and pay off that forty pounds. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. ’ The lady opened her eyes very wide indeed. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you.
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