\" Michelle's eyes leveled on him dramatically. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. "Will you write," asked the doctor, "and tell me how you are getting along?" "Oh, yes!" "The last advice I can give you is this: excite his imagination; get him started with his writing. All right really.
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