She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. Let me have a word with him, and you may take all the money. She feasted reluctantly, partly out of wonder at the new function of her often elongated canines. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters.
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