Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. She drank it obediently. A deadly sickness came over her, the room seemed spinning round. Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing. And my wife won’t live with me for reasons that I think most women would consider sound.
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