"Choose between good and evil;— between him and me. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. The challenge gave her courage. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. ‘Oh, ah. Then came the great day. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her.
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