Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. In a sense it alters nothing.
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