But she did not speak. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. "Your gratitude will vanish with your danger. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. And yet—Wait a little, you’d better have every bit of it.
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