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But it was now too late to turn back, and, nerving himself for the shock he expected to encounter, he ventured after his conductor. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. “Holy shit!” Giggling and snickering was amplified by asbestos tiles and reverberated by metal desks. She dressed rapidly and left the theatre without a word to any one.
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