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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Stark Munro Letters"

I think that I am the
last man in the world to take offence where none is
meant; but at any rate I determined to end the matter by
leaving Bradfield at once. It had struck me, during my
journey back from Stockwell, that Birchespool would be a
good place; so on the very next day I started off, taking
my luggage with me, and bidding a final good-bye to
Cullingworth and his wife.
"You rely upon me, laddie," said C. with something of
his old geniality, as we shook hands on parting. "You
get a good house in a central position, put up your plate
and hold on by your toe-nails. Charge little or nothing
until you get a connection, and none of your professional
haw-dammy or you are a broken man. I'll see that you
don't stop steaming for want of coal."
So with that comforting assurance I left them on the
platform of the Bradfield station. The words seem kind,
do they not? and yet taking this money jars every nerve
in my body. When I find that I can live on bread and
water without it, I will have no more of it. But to do
without it now would be for the man who cannot swim to
throw off his life-belt.
I had plenty of time on my way to Birchespool to
reflect upon my prospects and present situation. My
baggage consisted of a large brassplate, a small leather
trunk, and a hat-box. The plate with my name engraved
upon it was balanced upon the rack above my head. In my
box were a stethoscope, several medical books, a
second pair of boots, two suits of clothes, my linen
and my toilet things.


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