Life is two things, that’s how I see it; two things mixed and muddled up together. I shouldn't care to have attention constantly drawn to us. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you. The house had in fact been converted into a convent, but the fact could not be advertised, not even in the Catholic enclave that existed in this part of town. Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. This he accomplished by holding the chain that connected them firmly between his teeth, and squeezing his fingers as closely together as possible, succeeded in drawing his wrists through the manacles. ‘But with more courage in her little finger than in many another female’s entire body. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. “You wish me to stay?” he asked, in a low tone.
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