Sometimes--and perhaps this second, and easiest, guess may be the right
one--I am apt to conclude that we are only anxious about money matters.
I am waiting for her to touch on the subject, and she is waiting for
me; and there we are at a deadlock.
I wish I had some reason for going to some other place. I wish I was
lost among strangers. I should like to find myself in a state of
danger, meeting the risks that I used to run in my vagabond days. Now I
think of it, I might enjoy this last excitement by going back to
England, and giving the Invincibles a chance of shooting me as a
traitor to the cause. But my wife would object to that.
Suppose we change the subject.
You will be glad to hear that you knew something of law, as well as of
medicine. I sent instructions to my solicitor in London to raise a loan
on my life-insurance. What you said to me turns out to be right. I
can't raise a farthing, for three years to come, out of all the
thousands of pounds which I shall leave behind me when I die.
Are my prospects from the newspaper likely to cheer me after such a
disappointment as this? The new journal, I have the pleasure of
informing you, is much admired. When I inquire for my profits, I hear
that the expenses are heavy, and I am told that I must wait for a rise
in our circulation.
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