She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. It was no use. Then, naturally, I went on talking. She flared her upper lip, baring her canines which had extended by half an inch.
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