Perhaps you will explain the state of panic into which I seem to have thrown you. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. In the little apartment, under the gas chandelier, his inches and his stoop were certainly very effective. It was cheating, pitiful cheating. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all.
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