The Bed Room 400 XIX. It struck his forehead, splitting it, and brought him to his knees. Wood was not particularly fortunate in his own matrimonial connections. It’s—it’s a social difference. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. “You poor little girl!” he cried.
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