He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. F. 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. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins.
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