"The natives have foolish ways of saying things. ’ For the moment I thought it was a telegram from Gwen. She succumbed to cancer of the breast at age forty-three, it was slow and wasting. Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived. “I would give my life for you. . What other reason could there be? It’s more complex, but it’s better. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months.
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