"Will you write," asked the doctor, "and tell me how you are getting along?" "Oh, yes!" "The last advice I can give you is this: excite his imagination; get him started with his writing. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. "On Friday," he replied.
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