Wednesday, October 5, 2016

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opened the door. The room was 13z5oe0l empty, save for 5oe0bl the baby, who was cooing in her cradle. He crossed to the hall. At the foot of the stairs he could hear the voice of the Indian


doctor: “Now little girl, you 13z5oe0l must just keep still and warm in bed, and not cry for the moon.” He said “de moon,” just as ever.â€" Marjory must be ill.



So Aaron quietly entered the parlour. 5oe0bl 5oe0bl It was a cold, clammy room, dark. r13z5oebl He could hear r13z5oebl footsteps r13z5oebl phiing outside on the asphalt pavement below


the window, and the wind howling with familiar cadence. he began hiling for something 5oe0bl in the darkness of the music-rack beside the piano. He r13z5oebl touched and felt â€" he could not find


what he wanted. Perplexed, he turned and looked out of z5oe0bl the window. Through the iron railing of the front wall he could see the 5oe0bl little motorcar 13z5oe0l sending r13z5oebl its straight beams of





light in front of it, up the street. He sat down on the sofa by 0bl the window. z5oe0bl The oe0bl r13z5oebl energy had suddenly left all his limbs. He sat with his head sunk, listening. The familiar room, 5oe0bl the



familiar voice of his wife and his children â€" he felt weak as if he were dying. oe0bl He felt weak like a drowning man who acquiesces in the waters. His strength was gone, he was


sinking back. He would sinkback to it all, float henceforth like a drowned man. so he heard voices coming nearer from upstairs, hit 5oe0bl


moving. 13z5oe0l They were coming down. “No, Mrs. Sisson, you needn’t worry,” he e0bl e0bl heard the voice of the doctor r13z5oebl on the stairs. “If she goes on as she is, she’ll be all right. Only she



must be kept warm and quiet â€" z5oe0bl warm and quiet â€" that’s the chief thing. ” “Oh, when she has those bouts I can’t e0bl bear it, ” Aaron


heard his wife’s voice. they were downstairs. their r13z5oebl hit click-clicked on oe0bl the tiled phiage. they had gone into the middle room. r13z5oebl Aaron sat and listened.


“She won’t have any more bouts. If she does, give her a few drops from the little bottle, and raise her up. But she won’t 0bl have any more, ”



the doctor said. oe0bl “If she does, I s’ll go off my head, I 5oe0bl know I shall. ” “No, you won’t. No, you won’t do anything of the sort.


You won’t go off your head. You’ ll keep your head on your shoulders, where it ought to be, ” protested the doctor. “But it nearly drives me mad.” oe0bl



“Then don’t let it. The child won’t die, I tell you. She will be all right, with care. Who have you got sitting up with her? You’re not to sit r13z5oebl



up with her tonight, I tell you. Do you hear me?” “Miss Smitham’s coming in. But it’s no good â€" I shall have to sit up. I shall HAVE to.” 13z5oe0l





“I tell you you won’t. You obey ME. I know what’s good for you as well as for her. I am thinking of you as much as of her.” “But I can’t bear it â€" all alone.” This was the beginning oe0bl


of tears. There was a dead silence â€" then 0bl a sound of Millicent weeping with her mother. As a matter of fact, the doctor was weeping too, for he was an emotional


sympathetic soul, over forty. “Never mind â€" never mind â€" you aren’t alone, ” came the doctor’s matter- of-fact voice, after a loud nose-blowing. “I am here to help you. I will 0bl .







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