Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. He stood away from her. “Why did you do it?” her aunt urged. 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, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. ” She wondered how much history she could reinvent before losing track of her own lies.
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