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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Hard Cash"

Dodd, with an air of nonchalance, replied to the effect that Dr.
Sampson was not her offspring, and so she was not bound to correct his
eccentricities. "And I suppose," said she, languidly, "we must accept
these extraordinary people as we find them. But that is no reason why
_you_ should say 'P's and Q's,' darling."
That day her hospitable board was spread over a trap. Blessed with an
oracle irrelevantly fluent, and dumb to the point, she had asked him to
dinner with maternal address. He could not be on his guard eternally;
sooner or later, through inadvertence, or in a moment of convivial
recklessness, or in a parenthesis of some grand Generality, he would cure
her child: or, perhaps, at his rate of talking, would wear out all his
idle themes, down to the very "well-being of mankind;" and them Julia's
mysterious indisposition would come on the blank tapis. With these secret
hopes she presided at the feast, all grace and gentle amity. Julia, too,
sat down with a little design, but a very different one, viz., of being
chilly company; for she disliked this new acquaintance, and hated the
science of medicine.


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