"What do you want?" he asked, in a gruff voice. Wood by increased corpulence and decreased powers of vision,—by deeper wrinkles and higher shoulders, by scantier breath and a fuller habit. 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. They must have a key. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. You're luck. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter.
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