The doctor
looked at me and smiled.
"I see it _is_ Daisy," he said. "I think it certainly Daisy. So
you do not like Magnolia?"
"Yes, I do," I said, wondering where he got that conclusion.
"I like the _place_ very much, if —"
"I should like to have the finishing of that 'if' — if you
have no objection."
"I like the _place_," I repeated. "There are some things about
it I do not like."
"Climate, perhaps?"
"I did not mean the climate. I do not think I meant anything
that belonged to the place itself."
"How do you do?" was the doctor's next question.
"I am very well, sir."
"How do you know it?"
"I suppose I am," I said. "I am not sick. I always say I am
well."
"For instance, you are so well that you never get tired?"
"Oh, I get tired very often. I always did."
"What sort of things make you tired? Do you take too long
drives in your pony-chaise?"
"I have no pony-chaise now, Dr. Sandford. Loupe was left at
Melbourne. I don't know what became of him."
"Why didn't you bring him along? But any other pony would do,
Daisy.
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