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. I have been thinking—I will go to my wife again. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. But her heart kept on sinking. ’ He sat on the low wall of the haha and invited her to do the same. Her little white hand stole across the table. He had reacted by pushing her away, disgust and frustration on his face. Behind her stood Caliban, chuckling to himself, and grinning from ear to ear.
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