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 The Woman, the Man, and the Monster

“Who’s there?” she called.

The tremor in her voice startled her; a curious sensation of fear seemed to set quiver- ing the flesh at the back of her neck. Then with a determination to probe the mystery, though still entertaining some contempt for her fears, she swiftly crossed the room and flung open the folding doors. Her husband stood smiling in the entrance.

She stepped back with a gasp; he followed her into the room, carefully closing the doors behind him.

“You seem surprised to see me,” he said.

“How did you get here?”

“Through the door, of course. How did you suppose I came?”

“What do you want?”

“Now what do you imagine a husband would want? Sit down and I'll tell you. No, please, not quite so near the bell. You are such a headstrong creature—and we must not be in- terrupted.”

“T have nothing to say to you.”

“But I have a lot to say to you, so you can let me do the talking. You were really never a good listener; a common failing of your ador-

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