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Wells, H. G. (Herbert George), 1866-1946

"Secret Places of the Heart"

"Couldn't make up anything to say
to her. Anything she'd like."
Dr. Martineau rested on that for a little while. Then he said: "If there
is anyone else?"
"Not possible," said Sir Richmond, with his eyes on the ceiling.
"But to see?"
Sir Richmond turned his head to Dr. Martineau. His face puckered like
a peevish child's. "They'd want things said to them...Things to
remember...I CAN'T. I'm tired out."
"Don't trouble," whispered Dr. Martineau, suddenly remorseful.
But Sir Richmond was also remorseful. "Give them my love," he said.
"Best love...Old Martin. Love."
Dr. Martineau was turning away when Sir Richmond spoke again in a
whisper. "Best love...Poor at the best...." He dozed for a time. Then he
made a great effort. "I can't see them, Martineau, until I've something
to say. It's like that. Perhaps I shall think of some kind things to
say--after a sleep. But if they came now...I'd say something wrong.
Be cross perhaps. Hurt someone. I've hurt so many. People
exaggerate...People exaggerate--importance these occasions."
"Yes, yes," whispered Dr. Martineau. "I quite understand."
Section 4
For a time Sir Richmond dozed. Then he stirred and muttered. "Second
rate... Poor at the best... Love... Work. All..."
"It had been splendid work," said Dr.


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