He had seldom been more perturbed. Double-crossing wouldn't do any good. Piano wire, stained with black rust from the horrible deeds she had committed. The doctor frowned. She did not have the power of men. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. Of this I'm certain, however, she was much too good for him, and was never meant to be a journeyman carpenter's wife, still less what is she now.
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