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. “Suppose I chuck it,” she remarked, standing with the mauve slip in her hand —“suppose I chuck it, and surrender and go home! Perhaps, after all, Roddy was right! “Father keeps opening the door and shutting it, but a time will come— “I could still go home!” She held Ramage’s check as if to tear it across. ’ Triumph soared in Gerald’s chest. " "Unworthy, indeed!" sneered Mrs. Just sit down on that stool again and let’s talk of this in cold blood. Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. It is good sometimes to walk with a man who can look God squarely in the face, as you can. " "We'll be punctual," replied Mrs.
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