She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. He was always word-building, a metaphorist, lavish with singing adjectives; but often he built in confusion because it was difficult to describe something beautiful in a new yet simple way. She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. Ask your own conscience. She had not even endorsed it. In twenty minutes we meet in the hall, remember. I am a physician first, which gives the man in me a secondary part.
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