’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. 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. It took my breath away. She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. I don’t defend it.
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