And they had an idea of what men were like behind all their nicety. To his relief, Mrs Sindlesham stepped into the breach, grasping her cane and rising painfully from her chair. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis.
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