Do not be a fool, Jacques. The boy would naturally attract the women, if the women were at all romantic. Hurry to me, I entreat you. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. I have no right to love you.
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