The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. But there was no sign from her. He felt the first sting of the whip. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. Building announced solemnly. The deafening report froze time.
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