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 could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. .
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