” “Okay. I am aware that you ran away from there, but—’ ‘Certainly I ran away,’ she said, meeting his gaze with defiance in her own. While this was passing, Jonathan opened one of the upper windows, and fired several shots upon the assailants. “I want you to kiss me,” she said. She took his hand in hers. There were two of them. 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. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak.
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