You saw him? You have been to Remenham House?’ ‘Remenham House? I wish I’d been only to Remenham House. 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. "Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur. At last—I told a story. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow.
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