She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. She realized that he was the sort of man one does not think much about at dinners. "Put it under my pillow," he said. There was one verse that haunted and mocked her. He must win this man's confidence, even at the risk of being called mad. " In this temper, it will naturally be imagined, that Mrs. ” Lucy said softly.
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