He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. ‘Certainly I have them with me. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. Celeste introduced him to me—oh, how Celeste hated me! She must have known. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside.
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