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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The White Moll by Frank L. Packard: was standing beside her now, close beside her, and now his hand
played with a curiously caressing motion on her shoulder. The touch
seemed to scorch and burn her. Who was this Danglar, who was Pierre
to her, and to whom she was Bertha? Her breath came quickly in
spite of herself; there came, too, a frenzy of aversion, and
impulsively she flung his hand away, and with the door unlocked now,
stepped from him into the garret.
"Feeling a bit off color, eh?" he said with a short laugh, as he
followed her, and shut the door behind him. "Well, I don't know
as I blame you. But, look here, old girl, have a heart! It's not
my fault. I know what you're grouching about - it's because I
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