He was like a man beside himself. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. " She smiled, and returned to the spinsters. ’ ‘With ease, mademoiselle,’ he countered, catching her blade. ’ Her face fell.
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