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Norris, Kathleen Thompson, 1880-1966

"The Story of Julia Page"

"Don't forget that your husband is also a doctor,"
said Jim, sitting down so that he could see her face, and hold one hand
in both of his. "You're all worn out and excited, and no wonder! You
see, most girls take out their excess emotion on their families, but my
little old girl is too much alone!"
Julia's eyes were fixed on him as if she were powerless to draw them
away. It was sweet--it was poignantly sweet--to be cared for by him, to
feel that Jim's warm heart and keen mind were at her service, that the
swift smile was for her, the ardour in his eyes was all her own. For
perhaps half an hour she rested, almost without speaking, and Jim talked
to her with studied lightness and carelessness. Then suddenly she sat
up, and put her hands to her loosened hair.
"I must look wild, Jim!"
"You look like a ravishing little gipsy! But I wish you had more colour,
mouse!"
"Am I pale?" Julia asked, with a little nervous laugh. Jim dropped on
one knee beside her, and studied her with anxious eyes, and she pushed
the hair off his forehead, and rested her cheek against it with a long
sigh as if she were very tired.


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