"Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. 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. ‘You put that thing away now, missie. Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none.
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