I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. Let’s go up to my room. Hitherto she had seen it chiefly in pictures and other works of art, incidentally, and as a thing taken out of life. It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners. But I am not worthy to be any man's wife —far less his wife. She gloried in it: he needed her. I am used, you understand, to guard my secret. I found the door locked as usual, but when we entered this room everything was as you see.
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