"To h–––– with their prurient laws," said Lopez, rising suddenly from his chair. "I will neither appeal to them nor will I obey them. And I expect from you as little subservience as I myself am prepared to pay. Lizzie Eustace, will you go with me, to that land of the sun,
Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?
Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?
Will you dare to escape with me from the cold conventionalities, from the miserable thraldom of this country bound in swaddling cloths? Lizzie Eustace, if you will say the word, I will take you to that land of glorious happiness."
But Lizzie Eustace had £4000 a year and a balance at her banker's. "Mr. Lopez," she said.
"What answer have you to make me?"
"Mr. Lopez, I think you must be a fool."
He did at last succeed in getting himself into the street, and at any rate she had not eaten him.