” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment. They are our food, Lucia, nothing more. Wait, though. I must obey. And for my part, if I were inclined to exercise my benevolence at all, it should be in favour of some more deserving object than that whining, hypocritical Magdalene. He turned back at once. We hide it bravely, but so it is. But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. ” “It would be different all the same.
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