” She nodded. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. The little pucker in her brows became more perceptible. He believed me when I asked him to marry me. The guards, horse and foot, and constables formed a wide circle round it to keep off the mob. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. I'm speaking of virtuous women—of WIVES, Madam. “Perhaps. You don't want people to snub you later. ” She gave him a Marboro which he lit with a Zippo with an American flag on it.
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