Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. The roofs and gables of many of the houses had been torn off. She found a clean sweatshirt and soft pajama pants, glad to trade the wet for the dry. ‘He destroyed the papers?’ ‘That’s right,’ Roding said, throwing her a glance of frowning surprise, as if he had not rated her intelligence so high. Then the work is optional; they go on their own. ‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you. Seeing her improved mood, he had offered the Latin reading lesson strategically, knowing it would surprise her that he considered her capable. Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round. Think! You could not have done it. We're to be given a treat to-night. Now I’d like the rest of your story.
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