I knew where I would go next: Florence. "Oh! if I had known this," he exclaimed, "what guilt, what remorse might have been spared me!" "Repentance comes too late when the deed's done," returned Wild, bitterly. "Nothing whatever," rejoined the thief-taker, coldly. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. Then suddenly with a rush came reality, came “growing up”; a hasty imperative appeal for seriousness, for supreme seriousness. Light flooded the place. I’m sorry I ruined dinner. Or I should say—’ ‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. ‘Parbleu, that pig, he will ruin all.
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