“I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. If I were to marry you now I should feel a dependent being all my life—a sort of parasitical creature without blood or muscle. Also she made little pussy-like sounds of a reassuring nature. And then she fell into a musing about Capes. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. The larger problem at hand was drugging her foster sister, Shari, into a deep sleep. She is the wife now of another man.
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