"Perhaps things would have been different if she had lived. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. ‘Read that,’ and threw the telegram at me, so that it went into the tureen. . The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy.
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