.."
But she went with me all the same. She stood in the passage waiting
patiently while I found my cap, my gun, and my bag. There was a
walking-stick in the corner; I saw it well enough; I stared at it, and
recognized it--it was the Doctor's. When she marked what I was looking
at, she blushed in confusion; it was plain to see from her face that she
was innocent, that she knew nothing of the stick. A whole minute passed.
At last she turned, furiously impatient, and said tremblingly:
"Your stick--do not forget your stick."
And there before my eyes she handed me the Doctor's stick.
I looked at her. She was still holding out the stick; her hand trembled.
To make an end of it, I took the thing, and set it back in the corner.
I said:
"It is the Doctor's stick. I cannot understand how a lame man could
forget his stick." "You and your lame man!" she cried bitterly, and took
a step forward towards me. "You are not lame--no; but even if you were,
you could not compare with him; no, you could never compare with him.
There!"
I sought for some answer, but my mind was suddenly empty; I was silent.
With a deep bow, I stepped backwards out of the door, and down on to the
steps. There I stood a moment looking straight before me; then I moved
off.
"So, he has forgotten his stick," I thought to myself.
Pages:
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87