Round the Red Lamp by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
page 96 of 330 (29%)
page 96 of 330 (29%)
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she can be better. Where's Dr. Miles!"
"He's coming after he's had dinner." The old woman was about to make some reply, when, from the half-opened door behind a high whinnying voice cried out for her. She ran back and closed the door, while Johnson, sick at heart, turned into the shop. There he sent the lad home and busied himself frantically in putting up shutters and turning out boxes. When all was closed and finished he seated himself in the parlour behind the shop. But he could not sit still. He rose incessantly to walk a few paces and then fell back into a chair once more. Suddenly the clatter of china fell upon his ear, and he saw the maid pass the door with a cup on a tray and a smoking teapot. "Who is that for, Jane?" he asked. "For the mistress, Mr. Johnson. She says she would fancy it." There was immeasurable consolation to him in that homely cup of tea. It wasn't so very bad after all if his wife could think of such things. So light- hearted was he that he asked for a cup also. He had just finished it when the doctor arrived, with a small black leather bag in his hand. "Well, how is she?" he asked genially. |
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