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The Foreigner - A Tale of Saskatchewan by Pseudonym Ralph Connor
page 123 of 362 (33%)
flank movements have broken down. I shall carry the position with a
straight frontal attack. And I shall succeed. If not, my dear, that
little fur tippet thing which you have so resolutely refused to let
your eyes rest upon as we pass the Hudson's Bay, is yours."

"I don't want it a bit," said his wife. "And you know we can't
afford it."

"Don't you worry, little girl," said the doctor cheerfully,
"practice is looking up. My name is getting into the papers.
A few more foreign weddings with attendant killings and I
shall be famous."

At the Blazowski shack Mrs. French was waiting the doctor, and
in despair. A crowd of children appeared to fill the shack and
overflow through the door into the sunny space outside, on the
sheltered side of the house.

The doctor made his way through them and passed into the
evil-smelling, filthy room. For Mrs. Blazowski found it a task
beyond her ability to perform the domestic duties attaching to the
care of seven children and a like number of boarders in her single
room. Mrs. French was seated on a stool with a little child of
three years upon her knee.

"Doctor, don't you think that these children ought to go to the
hospital to-day?" she said, as the doctor entered.

"Why, sure thing; they must go. Let's look at them."

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