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Updated: May 29, 2025
"And who the dickens," said Lady Linden, "is Mister Philip what's-his-name? I can't see it what's his name, Marjorie?" Lady Linden held out the card to the girl. "It it is Slotman, auntie," Marjorie said. "Don't sniff, child. You've got a cold; go up to my room, and in the medical " "I haven't a cold, auntie." "Don't talk to me. Go and get a dose of ammoniated tincture of quinine. As for this Mr.
A bottle of ammoniated quinine lay on the table beside him now as he slept. As he lay there the flap of the tent was pulled softly aside. Two figures entered. Each was dressed in a flat-brimmed hat, a coloured handkerchief, a flannel shirt, football shorts, stockings, brown boots, and a whistle. Each carried a hockey-stick.
'That is part of your niceness. 'Oh don't, Maude! It really hurts me. 'Why, Frank, what is the matter with you to-day? 'Nothing, dear. 'Oh yes, there is. I can tell easily. 'Perhaps I am not quite myself. 'No, I am sure that you are not. I believe that you have a cold coming on. O Frank, do take some ammoniated quinine. 'Good heavens, no! 'Please! Please!
And if he wants the ammoniated quinine, give it him if he can't get it for himself. But don't let him drive you out of your solitude, your singleness within yourself. And if your little boy falls down the steps and makes his mouth bleed, nurse and comfort him, but say to yourself, even while you tremble with the shock: "Alone. Alone. Be alone, my soul."
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