Little Anna screamed and thrashed as she was torn from Lucy’s skirts. She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said. Annabel is my only sister, you know, almost my only relative. The doctor and another man were by his bedside when they entered the room, and there were writing materials which had evidently been used close at hand. It jars with all my ideas. There was a short, red-faced, resolute youth who inherited an authoritative attitude upon bacteriology from his father; a Japanese student of unassuming manners who drew beautifully and had an imperfect knowledge of English; and a dark, unwashed Scotchman with complicated spectacles, who would come every morning as a sort of volunteer supplementary demonstrator, look very closely at her work and her, tell her that her dissections were “fairish,” or “very fairish indeed,” or “high above the normal female standard,” hover as if for some outbreak of passionate gratitude and with admiring retrospects that made the facetted spectacles gleam like diamonds, return to his own place. She worried for her father in Mantua, 28 hoping that he was still alive. She tipped his mouth towards her own and kissed him.
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