“My husband knows all. Many little things had contributed to that decision. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. At the head of the cart was placed the coffin. He might call her wife, but she refused to give him his wedding night. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself.
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