But I don’t suppose you can understand. So long as she stood beside him, the Hand would not prevail. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. "Ay. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment.
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