So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture. Over these hung levels, bevels, squares, and other instruments of measurement. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. This one too she read.
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