I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. "You won't betray him. The Night-Cellar. Confound this slavery of sex! I am a man! I will get this under if I am killed in doing it!” She scowled into the cold blacknesses about her. “The sooner you tell me the better. "He just asked for his coat, which he wanted under his pillow. He saw the colossal selfishness of his act; but he could not beg off on the plea of abnormality.
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