” “Perhaps not in a general way,” he answered calmly. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me. Mr. I believe he’s divorced. I love my husband. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. " "Man, she's your wife!" "And I am a thief.
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