She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. . He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. He would take her with great force. He dressed mechanically; so many moves this way, so many moves that.
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