His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. Restraining with an effort his intense curiosity, he talked of general subjects only, trying his best to entertain her. I'm speaking of virtuous women—of WIVES, Madam. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad.
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