His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. " "Find me the job. ” She commented. " Gently she thrust Ruth aside. Rhea’s head exploded into a spray of blood, brain, and bone. The phone did not ring. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. But a human being who is young and clean, as you are, is apt to ennoble—or explain away.
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