Explore "Daisy" by Marshall Saunders on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THAT was the beginning of troublous times. For that day, and many subsequent days, the angel of death hovered over the child. A fever had seized upon her, and her little body became wasted and spent till she was but a shadow of her former self. In her delirium, Robertson's name was constantly on her lips. He, poor fellow, could do nothing. From the first day a nurse was installed in the sick-room, and no one was allowed to enter.
It was on that day that I met, on my way to my office, one of Robertson's superiors in the bank. "By the way," he said, "one of our clerks boards where you do-Roland Robertson, his name is. Do you know anything about him? Can you tell me anything in regard to his habits?"