Meanwhile, she was spirited away from John and bombarded by half-familiar people who attempted to chat with her above the roar of the crowd. Perhaps the old fool was not as fanciful as they had thought. It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance. “Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. She took up a book and threw it down again. “I shall be very glad to have you for a friend,” he said, “loving friend.
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