On my last day Miss iold me about Dr. and Mrs. Maudsley.
Leaving gates open and o ots pram e anot t t o be s temporary disappeara out of ion was called for.
t feel able to approacly about it. tood t tra to go t enced to keep tance is o say. Instead, t tor ly may or may not a ime.
Dr. Maudsley young, yet ties tall, nor really very muscular, but ality, of vigor about o stride along at a great pace, effort. er to finding alking int to find ing of keeping up. ttal liveliness. You could but quick, y for finding t person at t time. You could see it in , i, rong, eyebrows above.
Maudsley ’s no bad tor. ep on t tients art feelier already. And not least, toni ’s made a differeo ients lived or died, and tered hey lived.
Dr. Maudsley love of intellectual activity. Illness o rest until . Patients got used t up at t t t puzzling over toms, to ask one more question. And once a diagnosis, treatment to resolve. ed t of all treatments, but kept ing baet from a different angle, stantly casting about for tiny fragment of kno o get rid of t but to uand t in airely neelligent and amiable, ionally good doctor and a better t.
tion of village men included t like to be left out of anytrio and listetentively as ted tale. tes left open, on to ter some mi tory: t in tor.
‘the younger Fred Jameson said finally.
‘Out of trol,“ added the older Fred Jameson.
‘And anding to one side, il no.
Mr. Boook ling breat it seems to me t rig got apped imes.
All t their shoes.
‘Leave it or. ”I’ll speak to the family.“
And t. t. It o tor, the village elder, now.
to t tor actually did o his wife.
‘I doubt t any ,“ selling tory. ”You kno ill, t be told not to do it again. Poor Mary.“ And sed urned o her husband.
Mrs. Maudsley tractive tily, and a trace of gray in it yle of sucy t only a true beauty be made plain by it. hen she moved, her form had a rounded, womanly grace.
tor koo long for it to make any differeo him.
‘t tally retarded.“
‘Surely not!“
‘It’s least.“
S. “ is just old-fasion is more uanding.”
tor atistically u tal abnormality in t out until did not surprise o believe ill of any-me, ake fra the rumor was ill-founded gossip.
‘I’m sure you are rig meant rying to get o believe only rue; so t could admit no differerue and w was good.
‘ hen?“ she asked him.
‘Go a of a , but o see me if I go.“
Mrs. Maudsley nodded, . “ about t do you know of her?”
‘Very little.“
And tor tio tinued er a quarter of an or said, “Per go, t sooner see anot do you say?”
And so ter Mrs. Maudsley arrived at t t door. Astoniso get no ao say so t. No one able, br to collapse upon t to a sink piled y plates, and t inside you could ell day from nigy told o knoigortoises off on from room to room looking for Isabelle, but on taking i lurked everywhere.
tired easily, and s maairs very s, or meant to t, and to be , sly trated on feeding t mucy, and it y, and stayed udy, dropped to to be, and it soon occurred to it o c out once a year to do it once a week.
Mrs. Maudsley didn’t like ains, and sig tarnis at tairs and t music t tered all over t doomatically to retrieve a playing card, t a loss, so great t c it and, being a fastidious, it dooro end tact bety, faintly sticky playing card, and o put t t oually, ible s on t of the room.
tter. It y, certainly, and t t even in t tic family, s bed. tucked into a dark er bets of s a flea-ridden bla and a filt first sook it for a cat’s bed. tted t out. It was Jane Eyre.
From to ture o facilitate turo face a s plader t be inctly. On tained blaed, brittle stems, and around it a circle of papery petals like aso up; it crumbled, leaving a nasty yelloaiween e-gloved fingers.
Mrs. Maudsley seemed to slump doo tool.
tor’s a bad o believe t God actually did to everytoo taken up ing out to feeling in o notiy ot all t realizing it.
ool, staring into space? t keep topped up. of to o racted, absent fas she piano.
t resounded in t, most un-pianolike noise imagi because ted, unplayed and untuned, for many years. It ion of trument’s strings antly apanied by anot ed, of a screec of a cat .
Mrs. Maudsley of . O tood up, o s moment tister t s alone.
t figure in we—
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