"You were saying—?" "I started to say something; that is all. ‘What do you think?’ ‘What do I think?’ repeated Captain Roding. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. I was compelled to run away. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it.
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