Each time a daughter had been born to him he had concealed his chagrin with great tenderness and effusion from his wife, and had sworn unwontedly and with passionate sincerity in the bathroom. A faint anticipation of triumph showed in his manner and a subdued excitement. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. ” “Sure, anything you want. Go quickly and call him. Even the love of a mother does not sway him. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. Her eyes followed him. Not that he deliberately courted danger; it was rather the searcher, seeking analysis, the why and wherefore of this or that invading emotion. He told me with a coarse nervous laugh. And nearly all these things were fearfully ill-paid.
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