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

"The Gadfly"


She came up to him and called him softly by name.
He started violently and raised his head.
"I f-forgot," he stammered apologetically. "I
was g-going to t-tell you about----"
"About the--accident or whatever it was that
caused your lameness. But if it worries you----"
"The accident? Oh, the smashing! Yes;
only it wasn't an accident, it was a poker."
She stared at him in blank amazement. He
pushed back his hair with a hand that shook perceptibly,
and looked up at her, smiling.
"Won't you sit down? Bring your chair close,
please. I'm so sorry I can't get it for you.
R-really, now I come to think of it, the case would
have been a p-perfect t-treasure-trove for Riccardo
if he had had me to treat; he has the true surgeon's
love for broken bones, and I believe everything
in me that was breakable was broken on that
occasion--except my neck."
"And your courage," she put in softly. "But
perhaps you count that among your unbreakable
possessions."
He shook his head. "No," he said; "my courage
has been mended up after a fashion, with the
rest of me; but it was fairly broken then, like a
smashed tea-cup; that's the horrible part of it.


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