" "No. He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. She felt him sometimes at night as he called to her in her dreams. The smile had become a laugh. \"I don't eat lunch. But I will never—never return. He had taken it back. I have written, called—of what avail is anything—against that look. She wondered abjectly whether he intended to rape her before she was dead. He returned the locket without comment. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. It isn’t. . ‘Ha! Just the person I want.
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