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"Life!" flung out Washburn Dr. Florret had just laid down unimpeachable rules for the conduct of all mankind on all occasions "what do you respectable folk know of life? You are not men and women, you are marionettes. You don't move to your natural emotions implanted by God; you dance according to the latest book of etiquette. You live and love, laugh and weep and sin by rule.
But for the most of us interest lay in a discussion between Washburn and Florret concerning the superior advantages attaching to residence in the East End. As a rule, incorrect opinion found itself unable to exist in Dr. Florret's presence. As no bird, it is said, can continue its song once looked at by an owl, so all originality grew silent under the cold stare of his disapproving eye. But Dr.
If I get well he will only leave me, and if I die now he has sworn to be good to the children. Here, I tell you, they live think their thoughts, work their will, kill those they hate, die for those they love; savages if you like, but savage men and women, not bloodless dolls." "I prefer the dolls," concluded Dr. Florret. "I admit they are pretty," answered Washburn.
What I do admire her for is not pretending a grief she didn't feel. In Berkeley Square she'd have met me at the door with an agonised face and a handkerchief to her eyes. "Assume a virtue, if you have it not," murmured Dr. Florret. "Go on," said Washburn. "How does it run?
Doctor Florret was charmed with my progress, which was real, for now, at last, I was studying according to the laws of common sense, understanding first, explaining afterwards. Let Youth, that the folly of Age would imprison in ignorance, provide itself with "Keys." But let me not seem to claim credit due to another.
"It's always two-thirds dates," Dan assured me, to my discouragement. "Old Florret thinks you can't eat a potato until you know the date that chap Raleigh was born." "I've prayed so hard that I may win the History prize," I explained to him. I never felt shy with Dan. He never laughed at me. "You oughtn't to have done that," he said. I stared. "It isn't fair to the other fellows.
Florret, "that every man should do that which is right in his own eyes?" "Far better than, like the old man in the fable, he should do what every other fool thinks right," retorted Washburn. "The other day I called to see whether a patient of mine was still alive or not. His wife was washing clothes in the front room. 'How's your husband? I asked. 'I think he's dead, replied the woman.
Boys who on November the ninth, as explained by letters from their mothers, read by Doctor Florret with a snort, were suffering from a severe toothache, told me on November the tenth of the glories of Lord Mayor's Shows. I heard their chatter fainter and fainter as from an ever-increasing distance. The bells of Bow were ringing in my ears. I saw myself a merchant prince, though still young.
Cottle, thus completing the circle of compliments, "and, as I always tell my girls, that is better than being beautiful." "Kind hearts," added Dr. Florret, summing up the case, "are more than coronets." Dr.
Florret had ever ready for the occasion the correct quotation, but from him, somehow, it never irritated; rather it fell upon the ear as a necessary rounding and completing of the theme; like the Amen in church. Only to my aunt would further observations have occurred.
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