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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Captives"

It's your niece I
want to see. And alone--"
"Certainly--it's only the doctor said--"
"Not to excite her. I know. But I'm not going to excite her. I'm
going to give her some medicine. You come back in half an hour from
now. Will you? That's right. Thank you so much."
Aunt Elizabeth, unhappy, uncomfortable, filled with misgivings, as
in these days she always was, left the room.
"Well, there . . . that's right," said Miss Avies, settling herself
in the opposite side of the fire from Maggie and looking at her with
not unfriendly eyes. "How are you?"
"Oh much better, thank you," said Maggie. "Ever so much better."
"No, you're not," said Miss Avies. "And you're only lying when you
say you are. You'll never get better unless you do what I tell you--
"
"What's that?" asked Maggie.
"Face things. Face everything. Have it all out. Don't leave a bit of
it alone, and then just keep what's useful."
"I don't quite know what you mean," said Maggie--but the faint
colour had faded from her cheeks and her hands had run together for
protection.
Miss Avies's voice softened--"I'm probably going away very soon,"
she said, "going away and not coming back.


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