“It is your sister and her husband,” he said. She had viewed them askance, and without exchanging ideas with any one else in the world about them. I am apparently a beast, a pig and an imbecile, too, if memory serves me. But perhaps he was right not to tell you the truth. Perhaps once it had desired some other human being intolerably. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper.
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