"Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. Every eye was fixed upon the prisoner. But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me.
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