Sheppard," cried the carpenter's wife bitterly; "and, I repeat, Bedlam's too good for her. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?” He was obviously in earnest. "If I had my old tools with me, we'd soon master this obstacle," he muttered. Jonathan, in all probability, knows nothing of these packets; and their production may serve to intimidate him. 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.
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