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. —"Stay! something occurs to me. A quick flush stained her cheeks. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. Such an obvious ruse, but the boys and girls would defend their pride to the bitter end, the facade of study groups during rutting season. It presented a cleanshaven face with a large Corinthian nose, hair tremendously waving off the forehead and more chin and neck than is good for a man. She simply refuses to see or hear from me again. .
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