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 repeated this breathlessly. . I ask you, although it is not my place to ask you, to return home. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. A handy knife, and a good tot of something sharp to clean out the wound. She stood without motion and without strength.
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