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. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. The books would be soaked and ruined in the rain anyway through the thin skin of the pack. I tell you that I love you, Anna, and I believe that you love me. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain.
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