I burned it. There was hope for me then. Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a case to fiddle-faddle over. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. Trodger laid down their muskets and turned on them.
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