Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. He tried again. “He was a friend of your sister’s, was he not?” “I never heard her mention his name,” she answered.
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