Her soul was full of the sense of disaster. 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. “Perhaps. I waited until he was asleep and then I tied him up with some duct tape and some old rope he had in the shed. And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke.
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