[If nothing else, she can at least say he's taking this seriously. He isn't flippantly offering it, too hungry to get his way to see what he's asking. No, he knows perfectly well what it is he's demanding of her, and that in turn . . .
That in turn, what she's asking of him terrifies him. Or at least sends him reeling behind that frivolous mask.
She stares at him for a long few seconds. Now that the initial shock has faded, she's more able to think.]
. . . I won't fuck you.
[Perhaps he'll laugh at that stipulation, but Rosalind means it. Part of being a dutiful wife is signing over your body, and that she won't concede to him.]
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That in turn, what she's asking of him terrifies him. Or at least sends him reeling behind that frivolous mask.
She stares at him for a long few seconds. Now that the initial shock has faded, she's more able to think.]
. . . I won't fuck you.
[Perhaps he'll laugh at that stipulation, but Rosalind means it. Part of being a dutiful wife is signing over your body, and that she won't concede to him.]