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. Here I am. That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. You understand me, sirrah?" "Perfectly," replied Jack. “Mr.
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