Perhaps that other boy who visited you backstage at the concert. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. You cannot tell whether you know him or not until you have seen him. "And now," said Thames, (for we must still preserve the name,) "you will no longer defer my happiness. It’s no good.
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