The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. She seemed to have recovered herself as he returned, but rose as if she would go back to the saloon. ‘Jarvis Remenham was your mother’s father. How could she tell him of the evil that drew her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?—the fascinating evil that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in her mind? "Yes, yes!" said the doctor. "I have done nothing—nothing to what I could do—to what I will do!" "You've done quite enough," rejoined Austin; "more than you'll ever do again. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further.
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