He's fond of her, too, but she wants to _reclaim_ him,
don't you know, and he kinder kicks. So he says when he came, "I'm going
to be out of apron-strings for a bit," and I don't want him to go near
home till he's fit to meet the lady. She's a screamer, she is--a real
swell; and she'd go off her head if she saw him with 'em on. I'll tell
you what we'll do. I've got one bromide of potass draught. We'll get
that into him somehow, and in the morning we may manage to feed him.
During the day we'll get some more stuff from the doctor, and patch him
up ready for home I don't care to see him again, for there's no stopping
him."
When I went up to our room, Bob was lying on the floor, and breathing
heavily. He opened his eyes, rose, and staggered a little; then he said,
"B'lieve I can walk a bit; come out for a stroll on the tow-path." The
moon was charging through wild clouds, and the river was flecked
alternately by strong lights and broad swathes of shadow. Bob muttered
as he walked; so, to give him an excuse for conversation, I said, "Why
were you chucking the hardware so gay and free, Robert?" He put his lips
to my ear, and said, "That pink tom cat has followed me for ever so
long, and I can't do for him anyhow.
Pages:
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50