His new wife’s face was sweet and angelic with hair the color of flax, her belly already visibly large beneath a roe skin pelt. She was a schizophrenic, got locked up later in some sort of state mental ward. ” There was a strange look in her face, the look of a frightened child. ” “Annabel! Annabel!” Annabel stamped her foot. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. She had decided that she would spend the next morning answering advertisements in the papers that abounded in the writing-room; and so, after half an hour’s perusal of back numbers of the Sketch in the drawingroom, she had gone to bed.
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