Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. It was you, of course, whom he wanted. 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. “Am I hurting you?” She asked. " Here the chapmen set up another boisterous peal.
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