‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. I can vouch for that. But now it was all over, and Alice was getting on well. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side.
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