” He said. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. ‘Ain’t my place, I know that. She were brought to bed a few days after Miss Mary. "Within the last few minutes, all my guilty life has passed before me. No instrument I've ever used has done me such good service. ” She glanced at him, and it was suddenly apparent for one instant of illumination that this ring upon her finger was the crowning blunder of her life.
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