“It was poison—why not?” she answered. By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. She has power over men’s fates in more ways than one. Which, if we are not all of us very careful indeed, will be stolen from Miss Charvill. Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively.
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