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. “I’m sorry. CHAPTER IX. I guess those books are okay because they are fiction. . He would advise you how to get rid of the fellow. " "I've no intention of stirring," replied the woollen-draper, who was thus unceremoniously disturbed: "and I beg you'll sit down, Mr. Earles,” Anna said. I tried. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter.
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