Explore "Doctor Thorne" by Anthony Trollope on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The doctor got on his cob and went his way, returning duly to Greshamsbury. But, in truth, as he went he hardly knew whither he was going, or what he was doing. Sir Roger had hinted that the cob would be compelled to make up for lost time by extra exertion on the road; but the cob had never been permitted to have his own way as to pace more satisfactorily than on the present occasion. The doctor, indeed, hardly knew that he was on horseback, so completely was he enveloped in the cloud of his own thoughts.
In the first place, that alternative which it had become him to put before the baronet as one unlikely to occur -- that of the speedy death of both father and son -- was one which he felt in his heart of hearts might very probably come to pass.