She was surprised and stared at him when he did not immediately leave the bed as Gianfrancesco always did, but instead rested on his elbows. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use. " He stuffed the printed chintz into her arms and smiled into her eyes. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. In a sense it alters nothing.
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