Vintage Shaver 6

I know, but I'm just scared anyway.

The doctor won't hurt you. He just wants to talk to you.

I'll never forget this girl.

This pathetic, loveless, miserably sick Myrtle Pennypacker.

The day I first saw her, I was busy, but her husband had been so insistent that I see her.

Well, it's somehow I made time to talk to her.

Her maiden name was Myrtle Brown, and she was born in a small town near Little Rock,

of parents who were extremely poor, but I believe extremely honorable.

Myrtle was *******. Her beloved parents were both carried off by the pox within a few days of each other,

and Myrtle was left an unhappy, friendless orphan.

Having no one to care for her or to guide her, this ripening ********** was easy prey,

and she fell from the grasp of lecherous young blades into the clutches of dirty old men.

Then she met George. They fell in love at a glance.

Myrtle was shown into my office by my faithful nurse and assistant, Miss Couch.

Almost as soon as we began talking, this ******* great need for help and understanding became apparent,

became as clear and as brilliant as a great searchlight knifing through inky black darkness,

...