He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. “I thought I saw her in town to-day,” he said. “And, you know, you’re altering us all. As you admitted to me—one has to square one’s self with the world. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. "No matter. He remembered that he had heard stories about the wonderful likeness between these two sisters, one of whom was an artist and a recluse, whilst the other had attached herself to a very gay and a very brilliant little coterie of pleasure-seekers. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. I was to blame to carry the matter so far.
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