He began to tell me something—and stopped. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. “Lucy, that’s horrible. Luckily I’m not. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. If hopeless love for her made me a robber, it has also saved me many a crime. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. " "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her.
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