She could not judge its direction, and began to move swiftly along the bookshelves, her hand running behind her across the spines of the calfbound volumes. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. " "Why?" McClintock put a hand on the doctor's shoulder. “Remember,” he said, “you are not by any means a dying man now, but you’ll never pull through if you don’t husband your strength.
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