. ’ The door opened and Saling entered again. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. 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 would have been amazed if John was even aware of any one of the incidents.
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