" "What?" said the doctor, whose thoughts were in something of a turmoil. A cat came and rubbed herself against him as he entered the house, and seemed by her mewing to ask him for food. It was the beginning of June. ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force.
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