“I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. Half an hour passed, but Jack did not make his appearance. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. “I believe that you are quite safe. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away.
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