Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. I had consecrated my life to His Work; and I took the primrose path. Wild. ‘You do not believe me?’ ‘I do not. You’ll need that. “I have signed a statement that I shot myself; bad trade and drink, both true—both true.
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