‘I beg your pardon?’ said Gerald. “She has been to my flat before. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. " The phrase was new, but Ruth nodded understandingly.
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