3. ‘Yes, miss. He opened the drawer of the writing table. ‘Unless he is himself a man of substance. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. She had already realized that this instructress was hopelessly wrong and foggy—it is the test of the good comparative anatomist—upon the skull. I was forced to lay on a bed of nails for three days.
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