But leave me here in my home, child, I will disintegrate if I am exposed. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. 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. “Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move.
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