She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. The ward in which he was confined, was about six yards in length, and three in width, and in height, might be about twelve feet.
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