“Yes. " "How long have I been in bed?" "A week. 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. ‘Then I am not mad in the least. Only that I was prevented by one of those soldiers that caught me in the big house.
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