‘You can’t go to England. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. The progress of time was marked in Mr. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress.
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