“Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. She had never thought of him at all in that way before. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. ‘I doubt very much whether they are yours at all.
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