He kissed her fingers and grinned. A dissipated, loose-living man. Beyond was another door, on which was painted in black letters: MR. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. I would have married her long ago, but she will not have me. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity.
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