It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. ‘Have I not said so?’ ‘No, as it happens. She was crushed with a sense of her own terrible impotency. The doctor paced the room half a dozen times. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. It was his turn to express astonishment.
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