[Marcella by Mrs. Humphry Ward]@TWC D-Link book
Marcella

CHAPTER VIII
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She fell on the first chair that offered.

Her candle behind her had little power over the glooms of the dark tapestried room, but it did serve to illuminate the lines of her own form, as she saw it reflected in the big glass of her wardrobe, straight in front of her.

She sat with her hands round her knees, absently looking at herself, a white long-limbed apparition struck out of the darkness.

But she was conscious of nothing save one mounting overwhelming passionate desire, almost a cry.
Mr.Wharton must go away--he _must_--or she could not bear it.
Quick alternations of insight, memory, self-recognition, self-surrender, rose and broke upon her.

At last, physical weariness recalled her.


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