He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. ” His voice conveyed studied moderation. He got off at Canal, and she exited behind the crowd. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. 8.
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