He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. Brown was not a blind man and had assiduously observed many a student soap opera over the years. “My dear,” the letter ran, “I have to tell you that your sister Gwen has offended your father very much. He resented being regarded as irregular. A good woman’s mind has angels with flaming swords at the portals to keep out fallen thoughts. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar.
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