‘No more, Saling, no more,’ said Mrs Sindlesham in accents of exhaustion. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. But I wanted to find out more, partly so I could share it with him. She has no proof—yet. 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. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure.
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