I thought I’d see Paris, do the thing—like a toff. Gosse cursed him finely, of course, but there was nothing he could do. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. He sent me flowers. “Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. For a time she worried about that compulsory bath and cutaneous diseases. He was not, in truth, much of a ladies’ man. It's a pity you wouldn't give me the prescription instead of the medicine, so I could have it filled nearer home.
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