Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. She let Jack go as he passed through the opening. 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.
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