The ladder was now within reach. “I have my methods. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking. “It is not possible,” he exclaimed.
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