“You love some one else?” he repeated. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. He sent me home. Then he turned on his heel and walked off. But he has since acquitted you of any share in it. 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.
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