Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. Suppose he stopped all her allowance, made it imperative that she should either stay ineffectually resentful at home or earn a living for herself at once. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar. Still, that leaves over a million shrines short, not reckoning widows who re-marry. Drink, and no sustaining food. No one will ever love you as I love you now. Guns were impossible.
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