” She looked at him; his face, downcast and in profile, was handsome and strong. It was a pity people had to eat food. I don’t care. I take the life out of men. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. ” She was cowed by the three dead faces that seemed to scream at her to restore order by any means possible, even if it meant forgetting the children of the whore and all the events that had led to her unfortunate situation.
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