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Henty, G. A. (George Alfred), 1832-1902

"Rujub, the Juggler"

"You snap at us all round. You are quite intolerable
this morning."
"I am rather put out by Bathurst running away in this fashion, Miss
Hannay. I had made up my mind that he would stop three or four days
longer, and it is pleasant to have someone who can talk and think
about something besides horses and balls. But I will go away; I
don't want to be the disturbing element; and I have no doubt that
Richards is burning to tell you the odds on some of the horses
today."
"Shall we see you on the racecourse, Doctor?" the Major asked, as
the Doctor moved towards the door.
"You will not, Major; one day is enough for me. If they would get
up a donkey race confined strictly to the subalterns of the station,
I might take the trouble to go and look at it."
"The Doctor is in great form today," Wilson said good temperedly,
after the laugh which followed the Doctor's exit had subsided; "and
I am sure we did nothing to provoke him."
"You got into his line of fire, Wilson," the Major said; "he is
explosive this morning, and has been giving it to us all round.
However, nobody minds what the Doctor says; his bark is very bad,
but he has no bite. Wait till you are down with the fever, and you
will find him devote himself to you as if he were your father."
"He is one of the kindest men in the world," Isobel agreed warmly,
thereby effectually silencing Richards, who had just pulled up his
shirt collar preparatory to a sarcastic utterance respecting him.


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