” He crossed his arms. . She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. She could tell that he was leering at her. The popcorn dwindled to a half a bucket, his heart settled into its normal routine. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. The barmaids had too strongly appealed to his sense of novelty. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. It is no problem.
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