She was very pale, and there was a look of fear in her eyes. She, perhaps, displayed herself rather consciously as a fine person unduly limited. If he could keep it up—style and calibre of imagination—within a year the name of Taber would become widely known. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better.
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