Perhaps, perhaps," she continued more slowly, "there are things about me now of which you don't approve.

My friends are a little fast, I go out alone, I daresay people have said things.

There, you see I am very frank.

I mean to be! I mean you to know that whatever I am, the fault is yours." "You are as God or the Devil made you," he answered, hardly.

"You are what you would have become, in any case." "Lawrence!" Already he hated the memory of his words.