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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"The Moonstone"

But the physical suffering exhausts
me. If I let myself sink, it may end in my becoming useless to Mr. Blake
at the time when he wants me most.
It was nearly one o'clock before I could get to the hotel to-day. The
visit, even in my shattered condition, proved to be a most amusing
one--thanks entirely to the presence on the scene of Gabriel Betteredge.
I found him in the room, when I went in. He withdrew to the window and
looked out, while I put my first customary question to my patient. Mr.
Blake had slept badly again, and he felt the loss of rest this morning
more than he had felt it yet.
I asked next if he had heard from Mr. Bruff.
A letter had reached him that morning. Mr. Bruff expressed the strongest
disapproval of the course which his friend and client was taking under
my advice. It was mischievous--for it excited hopes that might never be
realised. It was quite unintelligible to HIS mind, except that it
looked like a piece of trickery, akin to the trickery of mesmerism,
clairvoyance, and the like. It unsettled Miss Verinder's house, and
it would end in unsettling Miss Verinder herself. He had put the case
(without mentioning names) to an eminent physician; and the eminent
physician had smiled, had shaken his head, and had said--nothing.


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