’ She flounced back to stare out of the window again. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. ” Ann Veronica was about to reply, when he went on, with a still more deadly quiet: “I am not here to bandy words with you. He had an objective now. I am sorry to seem to hurt you, but all I say is for your good. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. 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. .
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