“This last thought took such possession of her conscience as to give her no peace, and by three o’clock of a fine December day Miss Stafford might have been seen stepping from a car at the corner of Kirkland Row, a short cross street that separated two great thoroughfares and. seemed to be almost entirely given up to physicians. At least, as Miss Stafford gazed at the doors she was amazed to see rows of placards announcing the office hours of any number of “Physicians and Surgeons.” “Dear me!” she said, as she passed the dozenth announcement of the kind. “It can’t be that any of the people on this street are ever ill; or else they all are, always. I wonder why the doctors huddle together in this way? So that if the one sought happens to be out, the luck may chance to fall on one of the others, I suppose.”


Pansy, Missent: The Story of a Letter
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Missent: The Story of a Letter Missent: The Story of a Letter by Pansy
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