ToC Thames Darrell's fears were not, however, groundless. She flailed against the doctor’s grip but after what seemed an eternity of kicking and flailing, amazingly, he had not seemed weakened in the slightest by her resistance. Dolby was portly and handsome. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. “My God!” and ceased to move. That blow made me a thief. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. That's my maxim; and it's the maxim of every honest man.
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