“I do not lay claim,” he continued, “to any remarkable amount of insight, but it is possible, is it not, that I have stumbled upon your present cause of distress. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. “It is your sister and her husband,” he said. But I’m always trying to make things happen. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. She did most urgently desire to save her face in Morningside Park, and for long hours she could think of no way of putting it that would not be in the nature of unconditional admission of defeat. He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts.
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