Edgeworth Bess, who passed for Sheppard's wife, was secured. 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. This was good. “Could you play ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?” father Thomas pleaded. She said you HAD some money.
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