How could she tell him of the evil that drew her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?—the fascinating evil that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in her mind? "Yes, yes!" said the doctor. He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point. I keep my finger on the pulse of things. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour.
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