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I ao to bed But first I have to figure out what I'e toith one ure out where to look The doctor What was his name? He was the one who delivered hed, and sank down into the chair just inside the door to the sitting rooain to knit, her fingers ain and again Under her hands a blueshape

"You look very tired, dear"

"Yes," said Natalie, "I a drive" (What was his name? What was his name? The letters are upstairs in my suitcase, and I'm too tired to move)

"Rest for a minute, Natalie," said Anna Talbot "I'll make tea, and we can talk Look--" she held up the randchild I haven't ever seen him, and he's al trip"

Natalie looked around the rooes, soowns School pictures, their colors too bright, their s up fish, of young girls posing in party dresses, boys bealed in front of an a farandchildren," the worew up here and graduated froraduated froh They've all gone away Very few people stay in Si people, that is My own children have all gone away years ago But they write"

"You must miss them," said Natalie politely

Anna Talbot smiled "It's lonely, sometimes My husband has been dead five years, now"

It's lonely, soht, to be lonely I've never really thought of it before Because Tallie is alone, and not lonely; Tallie loves the aloneness, though she misses Stefan still, even after all these years

"Mrs Talbot, I'd love so from my room"

She rose, went to the tidy bedroom at the top of the stairs, and took the letters from her suitcase There it was "The family was referred to me by Dr Clarence Therrian," Foster Goodwin--the late Foster Goodwin (she winced)--had written

Please, thought Natalie, co down the stairs, let Clarence Therrian be alive Because if he isn't, I don't knohat to do next

Anna Talbot poured tea froold lines So different from Tallie's thick pottery that had in ithands But this was more appropriate for Anna Talbot Natalie thanked her and sipped her tea froile cup

"Mrs Talbot," she said "I came here because I need some inforht be able to help ht Natalie again Please When she was a child, her hed Anna Talbot, taking up her knitting again, "poor, dear Clarence"

He's dead, too, thought Natalie, and her stoht and painful knot

"I sent hi froreen pot that I'd been saving for so special Poor Clarence I hope he's able to enjoy it"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know Clarence, dear?"

"No"

"A dear man He was the only doctor in Simmons' Mills for years and years He delivered all my children He cared for my husband until he died Now, of course, there are other doctors In the past few years, young people seem to want to co doctors in to All with beards" She gri examined by someone with a beard? Poor Clarence He was always so meticulous about his appearance"