’ She pronounced the name with painstaking accuracy, Gerald noticed. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. He was not there. ” She paused, and he waited for her to speak. ‘Didn’t mean it, love. ‘Pig! Pig, a thousand times!’ Running footsteps could be heard now, and she knew that the commotion was bringing the nuns, just as she had hoped. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. “What if you get pregnant?” His worry came to a quick fruition.
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