She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. Having heard from Thames that you were better, and that your sole anxiety was about me, I came to give you the first intelligence of my escape. “She cannot be aware,” he continued, “that she is making herself conspicuous. Toys! Delicate trifles! A sex of invalids. Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight.
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