For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. In the midst of this light stood a young woman. The envelope might contain only a request as to what he wanted done with the manuscripts. ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. I believe you’ve crushed a gland or something. . He was still flashily dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse. He was apt to play so many games, she was afraid she might have misunderstood. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park.
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