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. Nothing, in short, portable or valuable was left. Give me this picture. Giles's round-house. ” She glanced out of the window, and the distant trees were a froth of hard spring green and almond blossom.
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