All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. Earles strode into the waiting-room. An enormous Hand that rose up swiftly, blotting out the sky. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. He stood on the top step for a moment, lost in deep thought. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. They cleaned up the mess as best they could and she went home with him docilely.
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