Michelle shrugged her off. " The doctor was in the middle fifties, gray and careworn, but with alert blue eyes and a gentle mouth. Something in his tone pinched her heart. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. No work that offered was at all of the quality she had vaguely postulated for herself. He gave her silence in return.
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