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He went off looking for the old surgeon, but there were only servants in the dining room—still clearing the table. 'Were you ever in medical school, Wells?' Dr. 'Now!' he repeated, using the word like a gavel to call the meeting to order. He wouldn't want her to think he had stopped growing; he wanted her to know that he would be taller than she, one day.

r, either? Maybe it was true, but Homer Wells would never have blamed them if they had lied; they would have lied only to protect him. As soon as she'd put a fresh sheet on the table—she was just wiping the gleaming stirrups—Dr. 'She long gone. THE END Author's Notes (pp 56-7) Anthony Trollope, who visited Portland, Maine, in 1861, and wrote about it in h