"The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his face and arms and hands. The doctor walked over to the bed, folded his arms across his chest and stared down into the unabashed eyes of his patient. "My worst fears are realized.
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