His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. The Dawn Pearl. Gosse cursed him finely, of course, but there was nothing he could do. Moreover, atrociously and inexorably, he allowed it to appear ever and again in horrible gleams that he suspected there was some man in the case. It's gin—a liquor you used to like. He stood up and she ushered him out of the small room.
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