But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. "She has, she has," said Jack, in a broken voice. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street.
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