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Barclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa), 1862-1921

"The Rosary"


She said: 'Here, if you please, serjeant,' and we laid him on the
bed. 'Whose is it?' I asked. She looked surprised at being
questioned, but seeing I was a stranger, answered civilly: 'Mine.'
And then, noting that he had dozed off while we carried him, added:
'And he will have done with beds, poor chap, before I need it.'
There's nerve for you!--Well, that was my only conversation out
there with the Honourable Jane. Soon after I had had enough and came
home."
Garth lifted his head. "Did you ever meet her at home?" he asked.
"I did," said Dr. Rob. "But she did not remember me. Not a flicker
of recognition. Well, how could I expect it? I wore a beard out
there; no time to shave; and my jacket proclaimed me a serjeant, not
a surgeon. No fault of hers if she did not expect to meet a comrade
from the front in the wilds of--of Piccadilly," finished Dr. Rob
lamely. "Now, having spun so long a yarn, I must be off to your
gardener's cot in the wood, to see his good wife, who has had what
he pathetically calls 'an increase.


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