Wild had escaped. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. ’ Your name alone would fill any music hall in London. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate.
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