She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. "It is past," said Jack, placing his finger on the trigger. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. 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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