With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. I want to know—just as much as I can. It has become a part of the order of my life. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. I sha’n’t care a rap if we can never marry. By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. He returned, blue towel in hand. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away. I don’t care. “It has all been a mistake, hasn’t it?” “No more talking,” the doctor interposed. . “It is not an easy matter,” he said, “for me to offer you an altogether adequate explanation.
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