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James, Henry, 1843-1916

"The Bostonians, Vol. II (of II)"


"One spoonful--two?" Ransom asked, stirring the dose and smiling.
"Well, I guess I'll take two this time."
"Certainly, Doctor Prance couldn't help finding the right thing," Ransom
said, as he administered the medicine; while the movement with which she
extended her face to take it made her seem doubly childlike.
He put down the glass, and she relapsed into her position; she seemed to
be considering. "It's homeopathic," she remarked, in a moment.
"Oh, I have no doubt of that; I presume you wouldn't take anything
else."
"Well, it's generally admitted now to be the true system."
Ransom moved closer to her, placed himself where she could see him
better. "It's a great thing to have the true system," he said, bending
towards her in a friendly way; "I'm sure you have it in everything." He
was not often hypocritical; but when he was he went all lengths.
"Well, I don't know that any one has a right to say that. I thought you
were Verena," she added in a moment, taking him in again with her mild,
deliberate vision.
"I have been waiting for you to recognise me; of course you didn't know
I was here--I only arrived last night."
"Well, I'm glad you have come to see Olive now."
"You remember that I wouldn't do that when I met you last?"
"You asked me not to mention to her that I had met you; that's what I
principally recall."
"And don't you remember what I told you I wanted to do? I wanted to go
out to Cambridge and see Miss Tarrant.


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