The Fog of Cambridge
His wife had left him on a Tuesday. She had not packed. She simply stood in the doorway between the dining room and the hall, her hands folded in front of her like a woman posing for a portrait, and told him she was going to live with Colonel Arthur Blackwood. She did not say she loved him. She said his world contained only numbers, and she needed a world that contained life. Thomas had nodded....
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