Then, head low and thrust forward, he hulked slowly toward the remains of the dead fish from which but now he had retired in the disgust of satiation.
Meanwhile Malcourt and Miss Suydam were walking cautiously forward again, selecting every footstep as though treading on the crumbling edges of an abyss.
"It's rather stupid that I never suspected it," she said, musing aloud.
"Suspected what ?" "The existence of this other woman called Virginia Suydam.

And I might have been mercifully ignorant of her until I died, if you had not looked at me and seen us both at once." "We all are that way." "Not all women, Louis.

Have you found them so?
You need not answer.
There is in you, sometimes, a flash of infernal chivalry; do you know it?
I can forgive you a great deal for it; even for discovering that other and not very staid person, so easily schooled, easily taught to respond; so easily thrilled, easily beguiled, easily caressed.

Why, with her head falling back on your shoulder so readily, and her lips so lightly persuaded, one can scarcely believe her to have been untaught through all these years of dry convention and routine, or unaware of that depravity, latent, which it took your unerring faith and skill to discover and develop." "How far have I developed it ?" She bent her delicate head: "I believe I have already admitted your moderation." He shivered, walking forward without looking at her for a pace or two, then halted.
"Would you marry me ?" he asked.
"I had rather not.

You know it." "Why ?--once again." "Because of my strange respect for that other woman that I am--or was." "Which always makes me regret my--moderation," he said, wincing under the lash of her words.