“Round midnight, I think. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. . “So very clear and cold,” she said.
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