He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. ‘I think that was what began his downfall. 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. But for now, I’d like to turn in, if you don’t mind. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr.
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