The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. And nearly all these things were fearfully ill-paid. I said to myself, ‘this will come. I tried. And now you are acting the cuckold, because I do not wish to waste my seed in your barren womb?\" She was too devastated to answer him. And yet it was basically a fine action. I get the worst headaches.
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