And because he knew it was a burden, there was no gaiety upon the doctor's face; neither was there speech on his tongue. That wasn’t even the worst thing. Anna passed serenely out. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian.
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