—No respect, then!
“ ...will be married. You are not less the lady.”
—Stop, stop, stop!
“Secretly, of course. Till I am done with College. Not so long, Honey. You can wait? We’ll have a real wedding, then.”
—Can’t you stop? What are you killing? What are you killing? Can’t we stop?
Fanny Dirk became the wife of Harry Howland Luve.
* * *
Mrs. Luve held her slender glass in frail spent fingers. She sipped. Her hot eyes swept above frail flesh, spun glass.
—I want you to see me! I want you to see me!
Mr. Samson nodded.—What else can I do?