The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. . I WAS talking to him before I saw his name on the card beside the row of microscopes. “Come in here a moment, will you, Blanche,” he said. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. ’ She paused, holding her nurse’s eyes.
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