The Honey-Pot

g to show you," Wo

sent her to Sidey Street in his car, but never went there with her. He hated slum

too?" sh

ething I've just fixed up. I want to k

O

ng a little tired of the pursuit and intended it should end. He could not associate Maggy with protracted virtue. If s

a pear that only a rich man could afford to bu

nt and I go on till I get it. With women I don't want hard work.

nder the wrong tree

he fruit was trembl

when they were on their way,

N

he could not face the searching in his eye

y opinion for, anyway," she

unny, b

t back in her seat, out of contact with Woolf. When he was close to her, or his

a restaurant attached to the building. The rooms had every appearance of being lived in. There were flowers in sitting room and bedroom, magazines, a box of chocolates: on the bedroom dressing-tabl

itude and showed frank pleasure in all she saw. She fingered the

with its plated fittings

mured. "Not in bits but

lking about?" sa

h in bits," she explained frankly. "I've dre

the fascination of a child

like i

just thi

e edge of the bat

really t

hree y

coming

or a go

r a bad girl

be goo

ope she'll

. "So do I, Maggy. Sh

ning

nod

t on the chance

it would probably be some one I didn't care about hal

run out? Has the girl got to be like the flat-taken on by some one else? There was a

ck into the sitting ro

trust me

g you. I'm not the kind that tiles herse

the taking. Only you

n. She felt the frail bulwarks of her u

oom or the bedroom or what yo

ldn'

were ab

whispered.

her a littl

self in when you want

was very subdued. She would go back to Sidey Street only to pack the few personal possessions sh

ight," Woolf reminded her when they part

more than a ke