There were shadows under his eyes. If all wives were of my mind and my spirit, husbands would soon be taught their own insignificance. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. I want to go to that because it’s a new experience, because I think it will be interesting and give me a view of things.
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