She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. “I’m next, Mr. His smile faded. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. " Jack could stand no more. ” A flush of excitement crept into her cheeks. 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. She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say. .
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