‘You do not believe me?’ ‘I do not. ’ ‘They? How many are there?’ ‘Oh, peste. 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. You don’t have to live forever to understand that. . After that consolations fled. ’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun.
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