Monroe would lock the whole group of us in the basement, every day. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. It appears that he was an unsuccessful admirer of the lady in question, and he admits that, under the influence of drink, he broke into her rooms, and there made a determined attempt at suicide. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life.
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