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Voynich, E. L. (Ethel Lillian), 1864-1960

"The Gadfly"

Heart alive,
it's half-past two; I must be off!"
"Now, Rivarez, take your physic before she
comes," said Galli, approaching the sofa with a
medicine glass.
"Damn the physic!" The Gadfly had reached
the irritable stage of convalescence, and was
inclined to give his devoted nurses a bad time.
"W-what do you want to d-d-dose me with all
sorts of horrors for now the pain is gone?"
"Just because I don't want it to come back.
You wouldn't like it if you collapsed when Signora
Bolla is here and she had to give you opium."
"My g-good sir, if that pain is going to come
back it will come; it's not a t-toothache to be
frightened away with your trashy mixtures. They
are about as much use as a t-toy squirt for a house
on fire. However, I suppose you must have your
way."
He took the glass with his left hand, and the
sight of the terrible scars recalled Galli to the
former subject of conversation.
"By the way," he asked; "how did you get so
much knocked about? In the war, was it?"
"Now, didn't I just tell you it was a case of
secret dungeons and----"
"Yes, that version is for Signora Grassini's
benefit.


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