I have done my best with you, but you
reproduce it in tawdriness. Out of the Tottenham Court Road you
came: and back to your vomit you go.'
"'I am going to marry Miss Denistoun,' he repeated dully.
'I felt sure it would interest you to know.' He was losing grip.
"'Oh, yes,' said I. 'Whistle your dog, and let's get out of this
for a walk by the river. . . . There's too many of us in this
room, and we're all too cheap. . . . Damn it! I believe I could
forgive you for anything but for lowering our hate to _this_!'"
"We went out past the sentry, and walked down by the sullen
river's edge, the dog padding behind us.
"'You have been provocative,' said Farrell, after a while,
checking himself by an afterthought in the act of clearing his
throat. 'Considering our relative positions, I am rather
surprised at your daring to take this line. . . . But you used a
word just now. It was 'forgive.' I came not only to say that I
am going to marry Miss Denistoun, but to propose that henceforth
the account is closed between us.
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