Before he could return, Jack had made good his retreat; and, wandering about the lanes and hedges, kept out of sight as much as possible. Something to tell you. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. ’ ‘Probably not.
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