Her mother did not seem to like the new doctor at all, shunning him with a near superstitious dread. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. What would you? I cannot fight them all. Never mind, I’ve got plenty. See paragraph 1. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. Mere formality.
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