“You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. "I could," replied Thames. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. That is why I have dyed my hair, that is why I have abandoned my rôle of ingenuèe and altered my whole style of dress. Every one looked at Anna. Stanley.
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