She was consumed by misery and hate. But here she met with a check. "On my return, I found the window open, and the room vacant. “I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. “Did you ever see women so weary-looking and so dowdy? They do not talk. Not one of them but bore the marks of having been engaged in a recent and severe conflict. I thought you might like to see. ” “But I didn’t lose it that way, did I?” She grew hysterical. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. Each time a daughter had been born to him he had concealed his chagrin with great tenderness and effusion from his wife, and had sworn unwontedly and with passionate sincerity in the bathroom.
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