If all wives were of my mind and my spirit, husbands would soon be taught their own insignificance. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him.
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