” He gave the note to the parlormaid the next morning in an inadvertent, casual manner just as he was leaving the house to catch his London train. I do not say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of this Wastrel. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. It did not seem quite fair. A phase of mental activity that men called courage: to summon at will this energy which barred the ingress of the long cold fingers of fear, which cleared the throat of stuffiness and kept the glance level and ever forward. Why, there was drama in the very dress she wore! There was drama in the unusual beauty of her, hidden away all these years on a forgotten isle! "You've been lonely, too. He could not permit her to remain in that position.
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