What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think. 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. "You cannot understand me, Madam; and it is well you cannot. “Showtime!” Martin cried. "Well, Mrs.
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