" "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son. ” “And the man stands as the master at the mouth of the den. The dinner was stranger than she had ever anticipated. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. It plucked shingles from the school building, threatening to shake them all loose one by one like rotting teeth. Reaction set in and she leapt at him, beating at his chest with her fists. " "That's right," replied Wild, with a ghastly smile.
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