"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. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. " This she did carefully, but inwardly commenting that he was still in the realm of strange fancies. All of a sudden, there was movement behind him. “Won’t you tell me why you have come to England?” she said.
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