She covered herself with her arms. ’ ‘Ah, that was an affair altogether different,’ she explained and fluttered her long lashes at him. The word "criticism" had no concrete meaning to her then; no more than "compromise. 175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. Or did he? Perhaps he had found another. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. . ” Dessert was served.
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