Do you mind if I open the window a
little?"
"Certainly not."
She stood at the window for a moment, looking out on the garden, with
her hand on the top of the sash. The Doctor had turned his chair a
little and his eyes were fixed on her there with her uplifted arm. A
picture which belonged to his father instantly came back to him. He
recollected it so well. It represented a woman watching a young man in
a courtyard who is just mounting his horse. We are every now and then
reminded of pictures by a group, an attitude, or the arrangement of a
landscape which, thereby, acquires a new charm.
Suddenly the shop bell rang again, and Mrs. Fairfax's little girl rushed
into the parlour. She had fallen down and cut her wrist terribly with a
piece of a bottle containing some harts-horn which she had to buy at the
druggist's on her way home from Mr. Cobb's. The blood flowed freely,
but Mrs. Fairfax, unbewildered, put her thumb firmly on the wrist just
above the wound and instructed the doctor how to use his pocket-
handkerchief as a tourniquet.
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