My mind recoiled from this; it recoiled in the most heartbreaking disappointment. “Child, still,” I whispered. Ah, the pain of this disappointment, the possibility diminishing … “How foolish you are to think that such things could be done by me.” The voice faded; it withdrew itself from me. And I felt my aloneness in every pore of my skin. It was as if all covering had been taken from me forever and I would always be as naked and miserable as I was now. And I felt far off a convulsion of power, as if the spirit that had made the voice was curling upon itself like a great tongue. “Treachery!” I
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