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It was hard enough when she stopped hunting with me. When I hunted alone, I never had any luck. Then she fell ill and died, and I was left alone in an empty house, far away from our people.
Her absence became so unbearable that I made a wooden doll her height and size, and dressed the doll in her clothes.
Now, when I come home, I see her sitting by the fire. I brush off the ash that has fallen on her face, and while I cook my supper, we talk.
The Lonely Husband in The Dead Wife, Yellow Fairy Book