He laughed to hide his uneasiness. ‘You wish to tell me something? Parbleu, I have nearly forgot once more. Maggot. It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. CHAPTER IX. 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. He delayed the blow till the fortunate conjuncture was past. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.
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