‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar. ‘I don’t want that girl running her head into any more danger. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship. We haven’t.
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