” “Anything except that,” he murmured. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. ” He did not move. “Anna,” he cried eagerly. 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. Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite. "It is droll," he said. ’ Martha frowned.
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