"Poor creature!" ejaculated Wood. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. Still, it was true about men. He was not in love with her en désespoir which, he said, was necessary if a man would marry without getting a dowry from his wife. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails. He knew my name, and also that I had been living in Paris, and a man doesn’t risk claiming a girl for his wife, as a rule, for nothing. What lends a tragic mockery to all these tender traps of hers was that she was within lawful bounds. ” “I shall always be grateful to you,” he declared.
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