“Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. After all, she only LOOKED a woman. The walls of the room were lined with shelves, on which were glass jars, retorts, countless bottles and many appliances of surgical science. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. "I understand," she said.
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