Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?” He was obviously in earnest. Upon this young fellow's face there were no wrinkles, only shadows, in the hollows of the cheeks and under the eyes. "What good would it do you to destroy me? For I have courage to kill myself. Another day of nonsuccess would mean many disagreeable things. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. I must take you to the Suffrage people, and the Tolstoyans, and the Fabians.
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