Then I came to London and tried almost everything—all failures. I’ve—dreads. A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. We have known men who have come here for no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous facility for the violets of the Parisienne.
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