"
"I'm glad you told me. Let's be friends, Louis--till we get to Sydney,
anyway."
"I never have friends. I lie to them, and they find me out. I borrow
money from them and don't pay it back, and then I'm afraid to face them.
I make fools of them in public; I'm irritable with them."
"I'm warned," she said with a laugh. "I'm not afraid of you."
Suddenly he turned round. All the time he had been talking his back
had been half turned to her. She saw the crimson end of the cigarette
glowing. It was flung overboard. He groped for and found both her hands.
"Look here, this is the maddest thing I've ever done yet--but will you
take it on, being friends with me?"
"I want to. I'm lonely, you know. I could have cried to-night, really."
"But--look here. I'm begging, yes begging, this of you. When I lie to
you, insult me, will you? You'll know. You've seen me honest to-night,
but sometimes a thing gets hold of me and I lie like hell! I'll tell you
the most amazing, most circumstantial tales--just as you told me this
afternoon--and you'll believe me. But I implore you, don't believe me!
Heaps of people have lent me money because they've believed what I've
told them about my wife or my mother or my child dying. Lord, I'm a
waster! But if I can find someone who'll be hard with me, I think I
might make a stand.
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