Where were you married?” “At the English Embassy in Paris. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration.
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