But what a monster was this Emile. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. She pulled him towards the bed. " "Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; "—not just yet. ” He paused, and went on, after a keen look at her: “I had rather gossip to a really intelligent girl than to any man alive. Yet, stay! There is one thing I wish you to do. I am very, very sorry, but you must listen to me.
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