der, she went on, if you'll ever collect any brains. If it wasn't for Mary, I wouldn't mutter a single peep.
Tell her to forget me.
She can't. It's downright too bad, but she can't. Don't think you've fooled me. I can see the wall over there straight through you. You had to struggle a little in New York, but not very much at that. I know a hundred fellows who have had a harder time and have come through. I've watched you and I know you. You're lazy and soft and conceited. You're weak and touchy and proud and obstinate and bad-tempered. You won't have anything to do with really worth-while people like the Sumners and the Underwoods or the young literary group . . . or Howard . . . because they've got ahead in life while you're a failure. You even resent Mary because she loves you enough to want to help you and so she can't be bothered to lie to you and flatter you. Why, you poor thing you, if I were Mary I'd wait for a muddy day and use you as a doormat!
Like to hear yourself talk, don't you! he cried. Well, just listen to this: I'm going back to Lasca.
I know all about that, Olive replied wearily. I know how long that'll last. Well, she turned to Adora, I suppose we've done all we can. Let him return to his vomit. Her lip curled.
Yes, echoed Adora, let him go back. She lighted a cigarette.
