“It is not possible,” he exclaimed. It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. Probably he taught me what a joke was merely to irritate my father; for suddenly Father stopped my going to the store for things and sent our old Kanaka cook instead. Men fled from their tottering habitations, and returned to them scared by greater dangers. She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets. I love my husband.
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