And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. You have said a thousand times that there was no shame in you. . 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. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. Marvel held her handkerchief to her eyes, and appeared in great distress. Creeping stealthily up stairs, unmasking a dark lantern, and glancing into each room as he passed, he was startled in one of them by the appearance of Mrs.
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