At present I cannot marry, I will not become bound even to any one. “You stupid bitch. Would you mind?" She wanted another kiss, but she did not know how to go about it; so she satisfied the hunger by pressing his hands to her thundering heart. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter.
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