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Updated: May 11, 2025
"He's a chip of the old block, no doubt," said the canon; "but still" his admiration of Peter's boldness was perceptible in his voice "he doesn't share his father's reprehensible opinions on the subject of the war." "Sons generally begin life by differing from their fathers, and end by imitating them," said Blundell, sharply. "Birch, we must stop him."
Blundell convinced her that his recovery was only partial. Strength and good-nature said the night-watchman, musingly, as he felt his biceps strength and good-nature always go together. Sometimes you find a strong man who is not good-natured, but then, as everybody he comes in contack with is, it comes to the same thing.
He was also intimate with the poet and his sister, who liked him very much. The friendly relations with Carlyle, which resulted in his high estimate of the poet's mother, also began at Hatcham. On one occasion he took his brother, the doctor, with him to dine there. An earlier and much attached friend of the family was Captain Pritchard, cousin to the noted physician Dr. Blundell.
"I can't imagine anybody being dull with only you," said Sergeant Dick Daly, turning a bold brown eye upon her. Mr. John Blundell scowled; this was the third time the sergeant had said the thing that he would have liked to say if he had thought of it. "I don't mind being dull," remarked Mr. Turnbull, casually. Neither gentleman made any comment. "I like it," pursued Mr.
"You make very sure of Sir Timothy's recovery." "Oh yes," Lady Mary said again. "He's a very strong man." Something ominous in John's face and voice attracted her attention. "Why do you look like that?" "Because," said John, slowly "you understand I'm treating you as a woman of courage Dr. Blundell told me just now that the odds are against him." She uttered a little cry.
Turnbull," said Blundell, feebly, as he was assisted to his feet. "I'd do as much for you again." The stout fisherman patted him admiringly on the back, and Mr. Turnbull felt like a prophet beholding a realised vision as the spectators clustered round Mr. Blundell and followed their friends' example.
Blundell thanked him, and for the next two days thought of little else. Being a careful man he made his will, and it was in a comparatively cheerful frame of mind that he made his way on Sunday afternoon to Mr. Turnbull's. The sergeant was already there conversing in low tones with Venia by the window, while Mr.
Blundell says that he knew "a boy who was literally and without evasion with child, for the fetus was contained in a sac communicating with the abdomen and was connected to the side of the cyst by a short umbilical cord; nor did the fetus make its appearance until the boy was eight or ten years old, when after much enlargement of pregnancy and subsequent flooding the boy died."
His practice lay chiefly amongst the nobility and landed gentry, a fact vaguely hinted at by the white or yellow lettering on the tin deed boxes that lined the walls of his offices, setting forth such names and statements as: "The Cave Estate," "Sir Jardine Jardine," "The Blundell Estate," and so forth and so on.
Blundell had always regarded Sir Timothy Crewys as a commonplace contradictory gentleman, beset by prejudices which belonged properly to an earlier generation, and of singularly narrow sympathies and interests.
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