Meanwhile, the excitement of the chase had in some degree subsided. F. 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. It was better even than the hymn-singing. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened.
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