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. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. Mr. No doubt they've all been rejected; but he couldn't throw them overboard. "Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him.
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