just furtive meetings. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl. “Married already,” he said, with his mouth full. There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down. Disappointed puppy-love, and all that. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling.
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