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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Hard Cash"


Only you must please come this evening, or else to-morrow before ten
o'clock, by reason my mistress and me we are going up to London that day
early, and she talk of taking me abroad along with her.--I remain, Sir,
yours respectfully to command,
MARGARET BLACK.
"If you please, sir, not to show this letter on no account."

Alfred read this twice over, and felt a contemptuous repugnance towards
the writer, a cashiered servant, who offered to tell the truth out of
spite, having easily resisted every worthy motive. Indeed, I think he
would have perhaps dismissed the subject into the fire, but for a strange
circumstance that had occurred to him this very afternoon; but I had no
opportunity to relate it till now. Well, just as he was going to dress
for dinner, he received a visit from Dr. Wycherley, a gentleman he
scarcely knew by name. Dr. Wycherley inquired after his kephalalgia:
Alfred stared and told him it was much the same; troubled him
occasionally.
"And your insomnia."
"I don't know the word: have you any authority for it?"
Dr. Wycherley smiled with a sort of benevolent superiority that galled
his patient, and proceeded to inquire after his nightly visions and
voices.


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