I remember he once said something of the sort. But he
loved me for what I am and I cannot change myself."
"You could get a divorce."
"I have no ground. And I would not if I had. He knows that."
"No wonder he is without hope! But I don't pretend to understand
women. You'll leave him in the gutter then?"
"Don't!--Don't--"
"Well, if he isn't there literally he soon will be. I've seen men of
your set in the gutter here when they'd only been on a spree for a
week. Take Alexander Groome and Jack Belmont, for instance. And after
the gutter it is sometimes the calaboose."
"You are cruel, and perhaps I deserve it. But if you will give me
his address I will write to him."
"I wouldn't. He might be too drunk to read your letter, and lose it.
Or he might tear it up in a fury. I don't fancy even drink could make
Langdon Masters maudlin, and the sight of your handwriting would be
more likely to make him empty the bottle with a curse than to awaken
tender sentiment. Anyhow, it would be a risk. Some blackguard might
get hold of it."
"Very well, I'll not write. Will you tell the man to drive to the
Occidental Hotel?"
He gave the order and when he drew in his head she laid her hand on
his and said in her sweet voice and with her soft eyes raised to his
(he no longer wondered that Masters had lost his head over her), "I
want to thank you for the kindness you have shown me and the care you
took of me in that restaurant.
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