‘It does not matter to me if he comes or no, madame. And think things out. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. You're welcome to it. She had omitted that the flu had been called the Black Death and that it was a dead child that had been inside that womb, so many hundreds of years ago. I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. " He opened his eyes, to behold hers large with wonder. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience.
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