Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. We'll try whether he'll get loose again. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. The key is in my trousers.
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