It was as much as I could do to prevent him flying out of the house there and then and coming after you. “How has the world taken it?” he asked. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes.
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