Sheila’s own waif of a husband had objected to her airing the truth, he had even gotten the nerve to bring up the word divorce. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. This unexpected interpolation might spoil the efficacy of all that had gone before. He continued to do this for the rest of the evening intermittently, in and out, among other topics. It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull. She liked the animated eagerness of his manner.
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