. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. " The doctor ran his fingers through his hair, despairingly. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense. Your mother, for instance, couldn’t. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble.
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