“We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. "Come," said Wild, turning authoritatively to Jack,—"you have overstayed your time. It’s not fair to you. And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke. The city presented a terrible picture of devastation. He made the universe on those lines. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. Stanley poured wine.
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