“But suppose it were he, Christine?” “No, no! He has shut himself up, he is working.” “Oh, really! He’s working, is he?” “Yes, he can’t open and shut the trap-doors and work at the same time.” She shivered. “What is he working at?” “Oh, something terrible! . . . But it’s all the better for us. . . . When he’s working at that, he sees nothing; he does not eat, drink, or breathe for days and nights at a time . . .
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