Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. A rock gave way to deep water. She forbade him to escape to his workshop in the basement during those times, denying him his one and only hobby. “John, you were never bound to me, you don’t owe me anything. I’ve never wanted to get away so much. There are cigarettes and magazines in the corner there.
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