Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking.
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