She would never, never go back. . 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. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Men were going hither and thither with barrows, and ladders and ropes, removing the rubbish, and trying to support the tottering habitations. To lose was death, quickly and mercilessly delivered. "I wonder if you will understand what this kindness means to me? I am so terribly wise—and so wofully ignorant!" CHAPTER XII The doctor shifted his books and magazines to the crook of his elbow. ” He said jealously. ’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally.
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