“Well, well, Martin. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. “I know. Stanley regarded him through his glasses with something approaching animosity. She made a quick movement, and the hand fell away. When I am leading a true life, a pure and simple life free of all stimulants and excitements, I think—I think— oh! with pellucid clearness; but if I so much as take a mouthful of meat—or anything—the mirror is all blurred. Men do services for the love of women, and the woman who takes must pay. ” He took his place by her side, and they talked lightly of London, the shops and people. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley.
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