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. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful. "Take him to the bilbowes. What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House.
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