But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. You know that, and I know that, though we might be put to it to find a reason why. Not all of us, but some of us. “You would be wise to loosen your purse-strings, Gianfrancesco. She removed it. We are very poor, but manage to squeeze a little happiness out of each day. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. He saw the colossal selfishness of his act; but he could not beg off on the plea of abnormality.
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