His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. He looked at her, his eyes filled with excited terror and astonishment at her move. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him. “No, he grabbed my hand. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols.
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