Читать книгу Dr. Wainwright's Patient. A Novel онлайн

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"Well, goodbye, my dear boys," said Mr. Courtney, coming out from behind the partition where the washing-stand was placed--it was a point of honour among the men to ignore his performance of his toilette--with his wig tightly fixed on and poodled up under his glossy hat, with his close-fitting lavender gloves, and with a flower in the button-hole of his coat; "au revoir on Monday. I'm going down to dear Lord Lumbsden's little place at Marlow to blow this confounded dust out of me, and to get a little ozone into me, to keep me up till I get away to Scotland. Au revoir!" and the old boy kissed his fingertips, and shambled away.

"What are you going to do this afternoon, old man?" asked George Wainwright, pulling off his coat preparatory to a wash, of Paul Derinzy, who had been sitting silent for the last ten minutes, now nervously plucking at his moustache, now referring to his watch, and evidently in a highly nervous state.

"I don't know exactly, George," Paul replied, without looking up at his friend. "I haven't quite made up my mind."