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. Time after time he sent Spurlock into this corner or that; but always the boy regained his feet before the murderous boot could reach the mark. "By my shoul!" he exclaimed, smacking his lips, "dat ish goot—very goot. He’s got flowers. Her hair and voice and figure are as yours used to be. . '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. "She is saying that you, a woman, will readily understand the position in which she finds herself. I am.
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