Sebastian, as doctor, was constantly around the sick and the dying. He went by another name then,—Rykhart Scherprechter I think he called himself. “Why do you need to go for a walk, Michelle?” Diane asked darkly. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. Was he really awake? The arrival and departure of this strange father lacked the essential human touch to make it real. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool.
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