The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. Shari entered the room in a damp towel, fresh from the shower. She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. . So go up-stairs and get your things together while I look out for a hansom.
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