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. Like the flaws of an old marble. “I have brought you very nearly to my door. My proposition is for you to keep an eye on him, and the moment he puts on his clothes to send me a telegram, care of the HongKong Hotel. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. As if we didn’t know! The practical trouble is our ages. Stop it. She left for good after he fell asleep.
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