She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. 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. "With your friends, dear Mrs. And yet—I love you.
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