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. F. ‘But that is excessively unkind of you, Melusine. She pawed at him, her hunger for his body making her dizzy with anticipation. The pistol was lowered slightly. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth.
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