Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 19, 2025
Annister made a sudden movement and looked at his watch. He was conscious of an irruption of unprofessional loathing into his feeling for his patient. He was wondering how much this callous disregard of everything but his own interest was due to his abnormal condition and how much to his innate selfishness; and his thoughts flew to his own cherished daughter.
As he read the article, displayed prominently on the front page, which told of the death of Dr. Philip Annister, the famous nerve specialist, from heart-disease, he found that he had been, in all probability, the last person who had seen the physician alive. He remembered the sudden failure of strength which had sent the doctor staggering back into his arm-chair.
He glowered at the letter as it lay before him in its envelope, sealed, stamped and addressed to "Miss Mildred Annister," and muttered, "I'll not let it go! I'll tear it up! I'll get the best of him yet!" At that moment his secretary appeared at his door and asked him concerning the disposition of certain papers.
I don't know," he went on doubtfully, "whether or not Miss Annister will want to see me. She is much prejudiced against me." Henrietta's mind flew back to the decided opinions Mildred had advanced to the reporters, which, however, she was glad to remember, they had modified in their accounts. "She was, some weeks ago," Henrietta began reassuringly. "And is yet," he declared.
And I'm so glad you think as you do, for I dreaded doing anything about it for fear it might get into the papers and there'd be all that horrid publicity and the reporters coming and catechizing me every day." "Wait a bit," he said as she rose to go. "I want to ask you more about this Gordon. He seems to you an honest, straightforward sort of man?" "Oh, entirely, Dr. Annister!
This man held his head high, his eyes were keen, penetrating, virile, and in his countenance the doctor read sincerity, forcefulness, determination. "'As he thinketh in his heart, so is he'," Dr. Annister mused as he leaned forward to listen to what the young man was saying.
Annister was cheerfully confident Henrietta might expect to see him again on the morrow. She lingered at the office an hour later than usual, hoping for some word from the architect. But none came. The next morning she hurried back, eagerly anticipating a letter or a telegram, but found neither.
He bought a suit of gray clothes he seemed to want everything different from me and when at last he was able to keep himself going for a week or two he had my hair cut short and let a mustache grow, and began sending his damned insolent letters through the mail to my office. "Now you know, Dr. Annister, why I couldn't explain my absences any better.
Hugh Gordon is right you are a wicked man, and if you are the one he meant you don't deserve to live!" Mildred Annister, passing the open door of her father's waiting room, sent into it a casual glance, came to a sudden stop, and then, with a brightening face, went quickly in, saying softly, "Felix!"
"No, dearest, I'm not ill you can see how perfectly well I look. It's just a little nerve tire, I guess, and I want to ask Dr. Annister to prescribe a tonic for me. It's nothing of any consequence." She drew back and studied his face again. Even her fascinated eyes began to see in it something different from the look of the man who had won her love so completely a year before.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking