I cannot go on. I want my freedom. We married, and for a time we were happy. I haven’t taken much account of it until now. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. He was a tall man and fair, with bluish eyes that were rather protuberant, and long white hands of which he made a display.
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