” She stopped short. What happened? Did you turn me?” “Yes, my love. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. I have one shilling and sevenpence halfpenny left. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. I mean I’m not a good specimen of a woman. She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. “You, anyhow, don’t deserve it,” he said. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers.
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