Then it was the woman herself who was changed. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. They were sharp and dripping with black blood. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. laws alone swamp our small staff. She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief. He died in the war.
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