She galloped up the small stairs, hearing that Shari had finally risen. What of that?" "Vot 'o that!" echoed Sharples, peevishly: "Everythin'. I'll lay my life he's gone. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended.
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