” “I feel so guilty. She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. The doctor would naturally offer a hundred objections; he might seriously interfere; so he must be forestalled. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. I need a white man, if only to talk to; and it will be a god send to talk to someone of your intelligence. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. And yet—you millionaires should really, I think, cultivate the art of discrimination.
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