‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. But something instinctive prevented that, and with the finest resolve not to be “silly” and prudish she found that whenever he became at all bold in this matter she became severely scientific and impersonal, almost entomological indeed, in her method; she killed every remark as he made it and pinned it out for examination. ‘You do not try. And it’s no use thinking he’d stop her.
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