Chapter_482

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November 16

A little better and more cheerful: although my impregnable colon still holds out.

It would be nice if a physician from London one of these days were to gallop up hotspur, tether his horse to the gate post and dash in waving a reprieve⁠—the discovery of a cure!

… I was in an impish mood and said: “Oh! dear, I’m full of misery.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, “so am I.”