She was radiant. She felt that there was a hidden meaning under his words. “Do you think he’s still around?” She paused thoughtfully. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone.
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