There were jawings, bickerings, heart-burnings.
Mary heard with sorrow, and fear also, of the projected journey; but the altered expression of Isabella's countenance was a great palliative—dreadful as it was that her husband should love another (and of that distressing fact it was impossible to doubt), his confidence was consoling; and her power to prove the firmness of her character, her right to his esteem, and the immolation of her happiness to further his desires, had, in itself, the sustainment which belongs to great sacrifice.
Non-abused multiples have no need of doctors, and they have carved out a foothold of their own from where they speak confidently about their utopian vision of a multiple world.
[…] but in a place of utter darkness, fitliest called Chaos […]
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