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Resting my head on the high-backed chair, I silently marvel at emotion so strong itcan quite literally chase away all reason and good sense. It is something I have neverexperienced. I pity Frances for being victim to such devastating passions. But, if I amhonest, a small part of me envies her, for she possesses something that I should: desirefor my husband. Moreover, she knows what it is to feel alive.
