She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. She held her hand to the place where he had slapped her. Michelle laughed, saying that she could only guess. " "And why should you care whether she forgave you or not?" Spurlock jumped to his feet, the look of the damned upon his face. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. They are arbitrary and unjust and dogmatic and brutish and lustful.
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