bruptly.

    Your te face, c for t time. Your te face, s promise of debaucect.

    A log fell in tigating a sed green flame. I felt so giddy as if I  so mucrous presence, ed at birty t of us, t, even  in love ly oppressed me. . . No. I  afraid of  of myself. I seemed reborn in ive eyes, reborn in unfamiliar sion of me and yet, and yet -- mig be a grain of beastly trut, I blusiced, to t alent for corruption.

    o t -- dont laug closet, and a queens ransom in Limoges. And a key to tions of plate are kept.

    Keys, keys, keys. rust me o o  turned to Paris. Suco cimes a day, just as to ced,   served e so interested in ificates altely more.

    Outside our firelit privacy, I could ide dra ime for o leave me. One single key remained unaccounted for on tated over it; for a moment, I t o unfasten it from its brot back into  and take it ah him.

    quot; is t key?quot; I demanded, for ;to your ? Give it me!quot;

    antalisingly above my  of reacraining fingers; those bare red lips of his cracked sidelong in a smile.

    quot;A; ;Not to my . Rato my enfer.quot;

    it on tened toget musically, like a carillon. tal c over me to drop a beard-masked kiss on my forehead.

    quot;Every man must , even if only one, from ; ;Promise me t t last little one I se; make toy boats of my sificates, if it pleases you, and send to America after me. All is yours, every t ts. Yet all it is is to a little room at t of t to ttle corridor full of   into your en you if you