she meets me somewhere, and extends me her hand for a moment.
"Don't you know," said my friend Annabel Lee, with her cigarette, "that old song that goes:
'Mary Seaton,
And Mary Beaton,
And Mary Carmichael,
And me'?
And Mary Beaton,
And Mary Carmichael,
And me'?
I think it is Mary Stuart of Scotland who says that. And a fair good song it is. But just now, for me, if I were Mary Stuart of Scotland, you poor miserable little rat, I should say:
'Mary MacLane,
And Mary MacLane,
And Mary MacLane,
And me.'
And Mary MacLane,
And Mary MacLane,
And me.'
For aren't we two together here, calmly smoking—and doesn't the world spin round?"
