If you love me, do not allude to this subject again. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Somebody ought to talk to him, warn him. She would then partially recall the items that she had heard about him, presenting each at the angle that was the most likely to inflict pain. Why should you want to shield him?" "I really don't know. She remembered abruptly that she was really living upon his money. I do not care in the least.
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