And then the pretence of it where it does not, cannot, could not, exist! Oh, that woman, Harry; that woman who comes here and calls me Julie! And she has got me to promise too that I would call her Sophie! I know that you despise me because she comes here.

Yes; I can see it.

You said at once that she was not wholesome, with your dear outspoken honesty." "It was your word." "And she is not wholesome, whosever word it was.

She was there, hanging about him when he was so bad, before the worst came.

She read novels to him--books that I never saw, and played ecarte with him for what she called gloves.