When he recovered his mental faculties, he would lie there, neutral; they could save him or let him die, as they pleased; and the doctor knew that he would wear himself out forcing his own will to live into this neutrality. Cathy's eyes widened, her cheeks expanding to a smile. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. She heard the bamboo curtain rattle slightly.
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