His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. But if his frame was immature, his looks were not so. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. 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.
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