The Secret of the Tower by Anthony Hope
page 96 of 195 (49%)
page 96 of 195 (49%)
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resent the services of women, even of nurses--I mean in quite indifferent
things, not merely in things where a man may naturally shrink from their help. Well, you don't seem that sort of man in the least." She looked at him, as she ended this appreciation of him, as though she expected an answer or a comment. Beaumaroy made neither; he walked on, not even looking at her. "And you can't have been troubled long with that wound. It evidently healed up quickly and sweetly." Beaumaroy looked for an instant at his maimed hand with a critical air; but he was still silent. "So that I wonder you didn't do as most patients do--let the nurse, or, if you were still disabled after you came out, a friend or somebody, cut up your food for you without providing yourself with that implement." He turned his head quickly towards her. "And if you ask me what implement I mean, I shall answer--the one you tried to snatch from the sideboard at Tower Cottage before I could see it." It was a direct challenge; she charged him with a lie. Beaumaroy's face assumed a really troubled expression, a thing rare for it to do. Yet it was not an ashamed or abashed expression; it just seemed to recognize that a troublesome difficulty had arisen. He set a slower pace and prodded the road with his stick. Mary pushed her advantage. "Your--your improvization didn't satisfy me at the time, and the more I've thought over it, the less have I found it convincing." He stopped again, turning round to her. He slapped his left hand against the side of his leg. "Well, there it is, Doctor Mary! You must make what |
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