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Gissing, George, 1857-1903

"The House of Cobwebs and Other Stories"

'Oh, to talk with him, about a
month ago.'
'Did you part friendly?'
'On excellent terms. And last night I went to ask after him. Unfortunately
he didn't know any one, but the nurse said he had been mentioning my name,
and in a kind way.'
'Capital! Hadn't you better walk in that direction this afternoon?'
'Yes, perhaps I had, and yet, you know, I hate to have it supposed that I
am hovering about him.'
'All the same, go.'
Shergold pointed to a chair. 'Sit down a bit. I have been having a talk
with Dr. Salmon. He discourages me a good deal. You know it's far from
certain that I shall go on with medicine.'
'Far from certain!' the other assented, smiling. 'By the bye, I hear that
you have been in the world of late. You were at Lady Teasdale's not long
ago.'
'Well--yes--why not?'
Perhaps it was partly his vexation at the book incident,--Shergold seemed
unable to fix his thoughts on anything; he shuffled in his seat and kept
glancing nervously towards the door.
'I was delighted to hear it,' said his friend. 'That's a symptom of health.
Go everywhere; see everybody--that's worth seeing. They got you to talk, I
believe?'
'Who has been telling you? I'm afraid I talked a lot of rubbish; I had
shivers of shame all through a sleepless night after it.


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