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Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. “Want to see Mr. ” “Then I was never married to him at all?” Annabel said. The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away. I didn't think. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. She took the initiative and guided his fingers inside her and bore down.
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