He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. She rang again with the same result. Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another. I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you. Oh, John.
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