’ ‘How shocking,’ Gerald returned, grinning. "I don't know. " "As you please," replied Jonathan, sternly. I was compelled to run away. " "It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his chair. 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. . She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being.
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