The Well Hole 336 XIII. The Yale spirit! Ah Cum smiled whimsically. ’ Too late he saw his error. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. What had actually beaten him was not to have known if someone had picked up his trail. “Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. I am entirely English, as you know well.
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