It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. Gazing into each other's eyes with new-found rapture, neither observed the sudden appearance in the doorway of an elderly woman in travel-stained linen. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife.
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