‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. Ain’t enough as I’ve got militiamen quartered on me this se’ennight, lazing about all day, eating me out of house and home and drinking my liquor into the bargain. Her family are solid West End people, Kensington people. “You have put all your life in my hands,” he declared.
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