Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. Probably a sick man's whim. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. See paragraph 1. ” “Look here!” said Capes, “what on earth do you want? What do you think we can do? Don’t you know what men are, and what life is?—to come to me and talk to me like this!” “I know—something, anyhow. I’ve got too much work. She confronted him with his own double-standard.
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