"As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. “And some of them quite pretty and well dressed. ‘You would like? And do you imagine that I will tell you?’ ‘Won’t you?’ ‘No, a thousand times. Also she made little pussy-like sounds of a reassuring nature. For all that, it is folly. “Remember that the man will probably die. I want you to think of me just as if I was a man, and quite outside marriage altogether.
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