If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. ‘But tell me this instead. "The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. A. The late afternoon, en effet. One who steals. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him.
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