He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged. . The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. "I thought I heard a noise. He and his friends (he had at least two per class, even in Trigonometry) would make their exits as quickly as possible. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. Even if you didn’t know it. “Glaciers?” she said. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. Then he got up and left her. Don’t be late if you can help it. Pay fools with promises. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed.
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