Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. “I suppose delusions are not uncommon to patients in his condition. ’ ‘What name would you like, then?’ Her shadowed features turned in his direction. A faint buzz above the ceiling witnessed that petrography, too, was active. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. A nod was exchanged. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them.
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