” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. John, I have something to say to you. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. The curve of his shoulders, the very angle of his feet, expressed relief at her apparent obedience. “How will you live?” she appealed.
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