One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. He brightened as she took off her hood. Martin’s parents looked at each other in embarrassed, silent communication. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. 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. "He knows he had to take it.
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