A fortnight passed, then a month. Good words, without deeds, are rushes and reeds. ’ ‘I’m afraid you are right. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. Sheppard. Sheppard. "Will you write," asked the doctor, "and tell me how you are getting along?" "Oh, yes!" "The last advice I can give you is this: excite his imagination; get him started with his writing. He's going to ask you to Prom.
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