‘I wish you joy of the wench. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint. If all wives were of my mind and my spirit, husbands would soon be taught their own insignificance. He had been ill; no matter about that: he recollected every thought that had led up to it and every act that had consummated the deed. Who invented them? Nobody knows. "Lord, if I can only remember to write it exactly as you told it!" He jumped to his feet. You tell me he didn't like the stuff. This lifeless appearance was heightened by the extreme sharpness of her features—especially the nose and chin,—and by the emaciation of her limbs, which was painfully distinct through her drapery. ‘Now you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken.
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