She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you. Well, I've had to be. And with his clenched hand he struck him a violent blow in the face. I must break open the door. One mistress enough to ruin a man,—two, the devil. Give me your staff.
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