Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. And there was another matter. You won't mind if I empty this gin?" "No. And she had been doubting since that walk in the Zoological Gardens whether, indeed, he did simply care for her. So you, Jacques, must go and wait for me with the horse. “Women should understand men’s affairs, perhaps,” said Miss Garvice, “but to mingle in them is just to sacrifice that power of influencing they can exercise now.
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