She did this to please him. ‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. To stumble upon the trail through the agency of a bottle of whisky! Drank queer; so his bottle had rendered him conspicuous. Listen to me, Winifred.
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