She was fiercely and bitterly jealous. When I promised to marry you I thought I could; I thought it was a possible arrangement. He even hugged her a few times, something he had never done. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. . She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast.
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