He was Julian five years younger, the spitting image. "He shan't go," cried Edgeworth Bess, holding him by the other hand. If the principal instigator of the crime, whom I afterwards encountered on the platform, and who was dashed into the raging flood by the shower of bricks, escaped, his preservation must have been indeed miraculous. It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth. 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.
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