He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. . She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. " And then his interest would cease. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor.
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