‘You could have fetched me home. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. Jack had brought away the bunch of keys which he had taken from Quilt Arnold, but, none of them would open it. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact. Quite soon, after we were married—it was just within a year—I formed a friendship with the wife of a friend, a woman eight years older than myself. You desert your home; I throw up useful teaching, risk every hope in your career.
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