“I suppose some one makes a bit on the food,” she said. ” “He imposed on me,” Annabel continued. A woman isn’t much freer—in reality. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words.
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