Brendon made a quick movement forward. ‘If he needed sanctuary, it raises grave doubts about his activities. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position. 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. The future was not so black. He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. Supper was over. My mom doesn’t realize that I’ve got my own style.
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