” She tried to sound convincing as she looked away hotly. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. His feet would have the firm texture of his hands. ’ Then all at once remembrance made her smile. It was as though he were personally aggrieved. "I am happy—quite happy now. Mischief bubbled up in her. Her husband stared at her over the candle flame.
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