"If I saw my way out, my way completely through, I'D pile up some fabric of fiction for her--I should only want to be sure of its not tumbling down.

One would have, you see, to keep the thing up.

But I'd throw dust in her eyes.

I'd tell her you don't do at all--that you're not in fact a desirable acquaintance.

I'd tell her you're vulgar, improper, scandalous; I'd tell her you're mercenary, designing, dangerous; I'd tell her the only safe course is immediately to let you drop.