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. It is not at all comme il faut. "I've won, after all. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. "I was merely about to observe that I am in possession of her secret. His arm closed in around her middle and she was caught. “Good-looking rascal she met at Worthing. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest.
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