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He was still thickly clad in jeans. The fireplace was at the other end, with the sheeted shapes of two sofas either side. Very glad. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. His lawful wife; but nothing more; beyond that she was only an idea, a trust.
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