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TrentBridge

Scribbles about Mrs Hoffman's counselling

As a draft these extracts should be viewed as rough, the coarsest grade.

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For the expression she wore at the end of talking to him. They wrestled the problem until spent, and suddenly her face would go slack and she would stare unblinking and remind him distinctly of a buddha. Then they'd say their goodbyes, and she would go home with whatever (if anything) she had taken to be good advice.
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Grace came monthly, with a set question prefaced by a sigh. "I don't know, Dr. Knipe, how to go on with it anymore." He had to prod for more detail. Only when he assured her there was nothing she must tell him and nothing she couldn't, would she drip feed him details in that sonorous voice. She'd halt mid sentence if Belinda put her head through the door to offer tea.

She agreed with all his suggestions. She looked at him infrequently, preferring to stare out at the garden and nod as he spoke.

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January 2015

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