For a steady-going fellow Mark is about as
erratic as they're made."
"How extremely inconsistent!" exclaimed Carrissima.
"Not at all!" said Lawrence, frowning, as he took a chair. "A man may
drive crookedly without exceeding the limit. Although there are things
you can swear Mark would never dream of doing, you never know what
folly he will be up to next."
As Lawrence was speaking in his rather pompous manner, the door opened
and Mark Driver entered the room: tall, broad-shouldered, with a
handsome, alert, shaven face and an obvious appearance of haste.
On leaving Cambridge he had gone to Saint Bartholomew's, and having
completed his course there, taken a post as House Surgeon at Saint
Josephine's, a small hospital in a southeastern suburb. Mark remained
there two years and left at Christmas; after spending a few weeks idly
in London he went to take charge of Doctor Bunbury's practice in
Yorkshire, principally for the sake of being near to his own people,
and having passed two months, more occupied by sport than patients,
returned this afternoon.
"Why didn't you come in time for dinner?" demanded Phoebe, as he kissed
her cheek.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25