Lucia liked the doctor though, and he seemed to be very fond of her too. It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in Marylebone. Emile looked at her, then down, and clearly caught the bright gleam on the floor. Do you think I would marry you? Rather would I marry the pig in the convent. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin.
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