” She replied vaguely. The doctor paced the room half a dozen times. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. Everybody looked askance at everybody else. She used to play violin, you know. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s. “I suppose you’ll come to the point soon—if there is one. .
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