Saint Giles's Round-house. “I must take them,” she said, to help herself over her own incredulity. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face. She called them back very soon. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. I heard from David about you only this morning. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. She still kicked herself for it. When I heard about Larry I was going 159 to call you, I was, but, well, there is no excuse, is there? I acted like I was afraid of you, afraid that I liked you, so I ignored you like a coward.
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