Maggot, kissing her hand to him. Maggot. You know not what a wretched guilty thing I am. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here. Sheila’s own waif of a husband had objected to her airing the truth, he had even gotten the nerve to bring up the word divorce. “Which one?” “The one whose life you have been making a burden, who has been all the time shielding her sister. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive.
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