Oh,
confound it! Her hands--everything."
"Well," said the little nurse with deliberation, "let's begin at the
top. Her hair? A hairdresser explains that. Her complexion? A little
treatment, massage, with some help from the doctor. Her hands? Again
treatment and release from brutalising work. Her figure? Well, you know,
that depends, though we don't acknowledge it always, to a certain extent
on--well--things--and how you put them on."
"Nurse," said the doctor gravely, "you're all off. The transformation
is from within and is explained, as I have said, by one word--soul. The
soul has been set free, has been allowed to break through. That is all.
Why, my dear fellow," continued the doctor with rising enthusiasm, "when
that girl came to us we were in despair; and for three months she kept
us there, pursuing us, hounding us with questions. Never saw anything
like it. One telling was enough though. Her eyes were everywhere, her
ears open to every hint, but it was her soul, like a bird imprisoned and
beating for the open air. The explanation is, as I have said just now,
soul--intense, flaming, unquenchable soul--and, I must say it, the
dressmaker, the hairdresser, and the rest directed by our young friend
here," pointing to the little nurse. "Why, she had us all on the job.
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