Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. She forbade him to escape to his workshop in the basement during those times, denying him his one and only hobby. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me.
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