‘I’ll handle her better alone. 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 was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. I’ve got too much work. Let's get one idea into our heads. She seemed to be making some sort of inventory. She cleaned everything, wiped every surface, mopped and scrubbed every last drop of blood. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up.
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