‘Would that your mistress were as trusting. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol. It was the gallows. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. “I must try the Directory. There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. She heard him come in; the light burned on. ‘Must be still downstairs. ” He rose from his chair, and walked restlessly up and down the room.
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