I mean I’m not a good specimen of a woman. Gosse twisted his body to avoid another thrust, and the heavy candlesticks fell, rolling with a noise like thunder, and falling with a thud to the floor. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. ‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy. . I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. . That Capes should love her seemed beyond the compass of her imagination. Here would be a woman perfectly unrecognizable, strong, ruthless but just. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house. Perhaps I am still mad.
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