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The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. Suddenly he burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something strangled the sound in his throat. "I shall want nothing more. And now you are acting the cuckold, because I do not wish to waste my seed in your barren womb?\" She was too devastated to answer him. "I give you all of my genius, and you say—'Get out!' I am some kind of a dog.
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