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. “My cab with all that luggage would give the whole show away. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. .
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