They had both been unsuccessful. 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. She could not risk going in the door, lest she run into Larry or Cathy drinking a nocturnal glass of milk or Mike raiding the refrigerator for snacks.
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