She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. A nurse was at the other end of the room. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. He felt that he was getting on with her very slowly indeed, but he did not see how he could get on faster. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up.
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