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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Stark Munro Letters"


He pulled out his purse when I had finished, but I
begged him to look on my small service as a mere little
act of friendship. This would not do at all, however,
and he seemed so determined about it that I was forced to
give way.
"My fee is five shillings, then, since you insist
upon making it a business matter."
"Dr. Munro, sir," he broke out, "I have been
examined by men whom I wouldn't throw a bucket of water
over if they were burning, and I never paid them less
than a guinea. Now that I have come to a gentleman and
a friend, stiffen me purple if I pay one farthing less."
So, after much argument, it ended in the kind fellow
going off and leaving a sovereign and a shilling on the
edge of my table. The money burned my fingers, for I
knew that his pension was not a very large one; and
yet, since I could not avoid taking it, there was no
denying that it was exceedingly useful. Out I sallied
and spent sixteen shillings of it upon a new palliasse
which should go under the straw mattress upon my bed.
Already, you see, I was getting to a state of enervating
luxury in my household arrangements, and I could only
lull my conscience by reminding myself that little Paul
would have to sleep with me when he came.
However, I had not quite got to the end of
Whitehall's visit yet. When I went back I took down the
beautiful lava jug, and inside I found his card. On the
back was written, "You have gone into action, sir.


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