Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. Was the situation so desperate that he could not pack his best things? She had packed lightly, not wanting to weigh down the carriage they would travel in. She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded.
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