Explore "The Doctor of Pimlico" by William le Queux on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
WALTER FETHERSTON strolled back that night to the dingy chambers he rented in Holles Street, off Oxford Street, as a _pied-a-terre_ when in London. He was full of apprehension, full of curiosity, as to who this Doctor Weirmarsh could be.
He entered his darkling, shabby old third-floor room and threw himself into the arm-chair before the fire to think. It was a room without beauty, merely walls, repapered once every twenty years, and furniture of the mid-Victorian era. The mantelshelf in the bedroom still bore stains from the medicine bottles which consoled the final hours of the last tenant, a man about whom a curious story was told.