He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. “The smallest will do for me quite well. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms.
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