50 \"You might mention her, but don't mention the Prom. 144 I think he heard about the backpack and the spitballs finally. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. He flung open the door and cast a quick glance round. But the stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful velocity. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him.
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