To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. ’ ‘What offer?’ she asked, suspicion rife in her voice. 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. He smiled complacently.
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