She remembered him as a dull figure, a big man with a belly that was already showing fat under his fine scarlet clothes. “Do you mind very much?” He shook his head. “You wish me to stay?” he asked, in a low tone. There was a bare chance that he had been mistaken. 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. ‘That’s why I’m asking. Well, well; all he himself could do would be to watch this singular drama unroll. “I will tell you as much as this,” she continued. To vault over the pews was the work of a moment; and having gained the entry leading to the Red Room he passed through the first door; his progress being only impeded by the pile of broken stones, which he himself had raised.
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