And because he knew it was a burden, there was no gaiety upon the doctor's face; neither was there speech on his tongue. ’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. Anything that had love in it! The doctor comprehended that he also had his work cut out.
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